Choosing Futures
by ALovedOne
Summary: Post 47 seconds AU. He really can't bear seeing her right now. Or ever again. So he joins her for one final case. When it takes an unexpected turn, Castle realizes there might be something left to fight for after all.
1. Chapter 1

**_Post 47 seconds AU. Two shot._**

 _based on a prompt from castlefanficprompts. Full prompt will be posted at the end of the story._

* * *

He really can't bear seeing her right now. Or ever again. Problem is, he doesn't think he can go _without_ seeing her either. His options here are limited.

But Castle is still fuming, still insanely angry with her for lying to him like that.

She knew he loved her this entire time. All this talk about needing her walls to come down first, about progress, all the hugs and lingering gazes and touches and … it was all a lie. Kate was never really waiting for him. She just hasn't figured out how to let him down yet.

Beckett – despite being a great detective – hasn't been able to find out why he is suddenly so cold. She definitely knows something is up; he isn't exactly hiding it.

Part of his heart breaks when he notices the confusion and hurt in her eyes, but another part of him, a much stronger part, is even more irritated by it. How dare she be upset. If it weren't for her lies, they wouldn't be here.

They could have continued as before. Partners, solving crimes. A tough and savvy detective and a writer who lightens the mood and puts the story together. Eating Chinese or getting burgers after a long day at work. And, at the end of the day, they would go home to someone else.

They went through that for three years. Of course, jealously flared up occasionally. But they still had a good time.

But now, Rick isn't so sure they can go back to the way that they were. Before everything. Before their fight about her mom's case, before she nearly bled out in his arms, before she disappeared out of his life for months, before she surprised him at his signing and forced her way back in. Before unspoken promises.

Unspoken promises he shouldn't have clung to.

Beckett probably enjoyed having a funny sidekick by now. By pretending she had no memory of her shooting, she gave herself a way out. A way that would allow her to keep going like before, to keep him around without having to deal with the elephant in the room.

He's actually mad at himself for not confronting her earlier. He thinks he could have handled the rejection somehow. He would have needed a few days, couple of weeks maybe, but after that…

But the damage is done, and her words still feel like a stab in the back.

 _"_ _I was shot. And I remember everything."_

Beckett remembers everything, and it didn't occur to her to let him know. A suspect would have found out before him had he not observed her interrogation.

All these thoughts flash through his mind, when the buzz of his phone brings him back into reality.

Her name and picture appear on his screen, and although he hesitates at first, he reluctantly reaches for his cell to answer.

Somehow, he still can't let her go.

But he has to.

"Castle," he answers tonelessly.

"Hey," Beckett says tentatively. "We caught a case."

"Alright. Tell me when and where to meet you guys," he replies without much enthusiasm.

"Listen," she starts. "You don't have to come. You didn't seem to enjoy tagging along these past few days, and that's okay."

He sighs. "So?"

"Well," she begins to explain, and she sounds a little annoyed, but he also thinks he can hear a little bit of insecurity in it. Good. "I'm just saying it's not your actual job, and if you don't feel like it, then you have no obligation to show up."

"If you don't want me there…"

"That's not what I'm saying," she interrupts. "I just thought you might not want to. But if you do… I'll text you the address. Or I can pick you up if you're home, that's practically on my way."

"Text me the address," he murmurs before hanging up without another word. His screen lights up with Beckett's text.

Castle rises from his office chair, begins to slowly collect his belongings he doesn't leave the house without, and makes his way to the door.

His thoughts still circle around her lies, around his pain, and he almost dreads encountering her at the crime scene.

It suddenly dawns on him. He has to leave. She was right, he wasn't passionate about cases anymore, and the victims deserved nothing less than someone who was eager to solve their murders. Someone like Kate. But with his bad mood, he was just distracting her, putting the team out of balance.

Kate Beckett might deserve the treatment, but the victims did not.

And yet, Castle is afraid to leave. He's gotten so used to this way of life – crime fighter by day, writer by night. Or the other way around. Whenever a body dropped, really. She is the reason he started writing again. She made it more fun.

They're not exactly in a great spot right now, and he blames her for that. So if he leaves, it's likely they lose whatever years of their partnership created. Although she did a pretty good job destroying most of it already.

If he stays, he will continue acting cold, and they will end up fighting.

Or he confronts her, and they will end up fighting.

None of the scenarios seem very appealing, though he probably prefers the one without a fight with Beckett. If he just leaves now, even if they would part on bad terms, they could maybe keep some of the good memories from their years of working together. But they could still part believing that their past partnership has been worth something.

No need to damage it any further.

So, as he hails and gets into a cab, he makes a decision.

This is his final case.

* * *

Castle gets to the scene and joins the team. They all got there before him, and he greets them with a curt nod, making no further acknowledgement of Beckett who is standing right next to him.

Ryan lets a few seconds of awkward silence pass before he begins to inform everyone who the victim is. "His name is Mathias Gensler. His passport indicates that he is a Swiss national. Witnesses said that two masked men attacked both driver and Gensler before cutting a silver briefcase handcuffed to Mr. Gensler's wrist."

"So this was an ambush," Beckett concludes. "Whoever did this knew that he had that case with him."

"Looks like the attackers fled in a late model G-Wagon, no plates."

Castle takes in the information and walks over to the victim. "Is that a boot print on his shirt?"

"The killer must have held him down with his foot," Beckett replies, stepping to his side again, trying to close the distance he created.

He temporarily forgets his anger, his writer's imagination getting the best of him. "So what was in the case? Nuclear launch codes? Deadly virus?"

He can practically hear her eyeroll, and for a moment, everything is the way it was before. For a moment.

He bends down, ignoring the weird look he gets from the M.E. and sniffs.

"Castle, what are you doing with my body?" Lanie asks him.

"Just pretend that you don't know him," Beckett remarks, and a few weeks ago, that would have at least made him smile.

Not anymore. Hardly anything concerning Kate made him smile anymore. He doesn't respond to her comment, and instead gets up and faces the two, bringing the carbon to their attention.

Not matter where they stand right now, they all still want to bring the killer to justice. And so Beckett accepts his theory of the abandoned coal plant and agrees to check out the one on Hudson.

This time, he doesn't get around sitting in the same car as her, and an uncomfortable silence stands between them during their entire ride there.

They reach the coal plant, and the thrill of entering a potentially dangerous location is almost relaxing compared to the tension between them.

Castle and Beckett step through the doorway and carefully observe their surroundings.

"Castle. You were right. The shooter's G-Wagon is here," she says and pulls out her phone. "Espo, hey. I need backup at the Hudson River coal plant."

As she is talking, his eyes land on the silver briefcase. He doesn't stop to think, he just walks towards it and opens it. After she ends the phone call, Beckett catches up with him.

"What's in it?"

They both look down at the golden medallion, and he can't help himself and grabs it. He at least remembers to use a handkerchief (years of scolding from the team for getting his prints on evidence and costing them valuable time finally having some effect) before taking it from the case.

That's when a gun goes off, a bullet buzzing past them, too close for either of their liking.

They take cover as fast as possible, Beckett shooting at their attacker but missing.

"Why do you always have to touch everything?" she hisses.

"I thought you liked that about me," he responds without thinking, and there it is again. A hint of normalcy. Of the way things were.

Something rolls towards them, and she pushes him to the side, runs to the other. He sees a door and leaps through it, just as the explosion goes off.

As it does, he can't help but wonder

 _What if things had gone differently? What if she reciprocated his feelings? What if he told her he loved her at a different time?_

* * *

As he hits the ground, the air rushes out of his lungs. He stays low for a few seconds after, maybe a whole minute, before moving again.

It's oddly quiet.

He wishes his thoughts wouldn't immediately wander to Kate, but just like so many times when it comes to her, he can't help it.

They may not be great friends or partners anymore, but his heart still races when he considers the possibility of something happening to her. Again.

He rises, slowly, and walks back the way he came. The coal plant is empty, void of any sign of Beckett or their attacker.

"Beckett?" he calls, but receives no response. He cautiously makes his way through the entire hall without encountering a single soul. He looks down and notices he is still holding that stupid artifact. But the briefcase is gone too.

As is her car, he notes as he goes outside. His anger at her returns within seconds. Of course she'd abandon him at some stupid coal plant after being shot at. She probably fled without thinking of him. Wouldn't be the first time she'd done what's best for her without thinking of him.

He checks his phone, but she hasn't thought to leave him a message either. Fantastic.

He makes sure his wallet is still in his pocket, stuffs the artifact in there with it and then calls a cab which he orders to take him to the precinct.

Castle is convinced she'll sit there, unharmed, calmly sipping the coffee he doesn't bring her anymore, staring at the murder board she started in his absence, barely noticing him entering the bullpen. He almost expects her to make a stupid joke about taking too long.

By the time the taxi arrives at the station, he is furious again, prepared to let out every bit of anger that built up over the past couple of weeks since he heard her accidental confession.

Screw parting without a fight.

He's practically shaking in the elevator, ready to unleash all fury. The doors open and he storms onto the floor, heading straight to her desk.

Where someone else is sitting.

"Who are you?" he practically yells at the poor man, who jumps in his seat and looks at him like a deer caught in headlights.

"D-Detective Sullivan," the guy stutters. "I've been here for months. You know me, Mr. Castle."

He furrows his brow. He is one hundred percent sure he has never seen this person.

"Actually, you call me Sully. You know?" The guy keeps trying, since Castle still hasn't responded.

"Where is Beckett?" he basically snaps, not wanting to bother with some unimportant detective sitting at the wrong desk.

"Your wife? Not sure, she…"

"My what?" he interrupts, but before he gets a response from the man who is now staring at him like he is some kind of lunatic, Ryan calls his name.

"What are you doing here?"

He doesn't want to explain, doesn't think he can without starting to scream, and so he ignores the question.

"Do you know where Beckett is?" he asks, struggling to keep his voice steady.

Ryan chuckles. "Shouldn't you know? Considering you cried when Alexis left for that trip several years back, we didn't think you could forget."

"What?" He is so confused, and because he can't make sense of anything Ryan is saying, he just stares at him dumbly. "What?" he repeats.

"Man, who hit you over the head? But I guess since you have been in the library for hours doing research, I can't blame your brain for being fried." He chuckles again at a joke Castle is sure he is missing, and at this point, confusion has almost wholly replaced rage. The situation is too bizarre.

"So…?" Castle prompts.

"You really don't remember, do you?" Ryan shakes his head and smirks. He lets a moment pass. "The Captain dropped off Reece and Jake for their school trip. She should be home by now," he adds after glancing down at his watch.

"Captain…?" Castle murmurs and massages his forehead. "Who…" Maybe he _did_ hit his head when he landed after the explosion.

Ryan shakes his head in disbelief. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay getting home by yourself?" he calls after him as he turns to leave.

Castle manages to mumble out a quick "yes" before heading back outside. Maybe a bit of fresh air will clear his mind. The conversation he just had was more than weird, but if Beckett is home, he'll go there and confront her then. He doesn't care who she dropped of or what the Captain has to do with any of that, he won't just let her get away with leaving him behind.

Again.

He hails his third cab of the day and instructs the driver to take him to her address. He practically jumps out of the car upon arrival, eager to have her shed some light on the situation, to make her explain and to tell her that their partnership was over. It's time. Today's events just confirmed it.

He can't be bothered to wait for the elevator, instead opts to run up the stairs two at a time, gasping for air once he arrives at her door. He knocks impatiently and with a bit too much force, trying to steady his breath before she can answer it.

On the opposite side of the door, the sound of shuffling footsteps registers with him.

His face drops when an old lady opens it. "Yes?" she asks as she looks him up and down. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I… um…," he starts, shaking his head and beginning anew. "I would like to speak to Kate Beckett?"

"Who, my dear?"

"Kate Beckett. Detective Beckett, Kate, Captain," he lists all possible aliases the woman might know her as, even trying the title Ryan used.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I think you're in the wrong place." Her forehead creases as she thinks for a moment. "There is a Kate on this floor, but her last name is Dale, I think. Lovely girl, just moved to the city." He shakes his head and she sighs. "Well, she most certainly isn't a detective, and I don't think there is one in this entire building. The guy down the hall told me he was a sailor once, but I'm also quite convinced he was never a captain of any sort."

Castle groans and steps back, massaging his temples again.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of any more help, dear. Would you like a cup of tea? Or coffee maybe?"

"No, no… Thank you. I'm sorry I disturbed you, I'll leave."

With that, he turns on his heel and walks back onto the street. With nowhere to go but home, he starts to walk to his loft. It'll take him a while, but maybe it'll clear his head. Everybody seems to be in on something that he is missing, but he doesn't have the slightest idea of what that could be.

At one point, he pulls out his phone to call her, but she doesn't answer. He notices he still carries that dumb medallion with him, since he had bigger concerns when he was at the precinct.

Stupid case. He should have just told her no right away.

By the time he reaches his building, he has made up his mind. He'll call her the next day and end their partnership; if she doesn't answer, he'll go to the precinct and tell her in person. But whatever they had, it's over. It has to be.

He pulls out his keys and unlocks his front door, entering the familiar space and dropping his jacket at the entrance. He doesn't care what time of day it is, he needs a drink, now.

"Babe, please put away your stuff. The next person walking through that door is just gonna fall over it."

He definitely recognizes the voices, would know the sound in a room full of people with music turned all the way up. He's listened to it when it was used to accuse people of murder, promise justice to families, when it quivered when she almost broke into tears.

Kate's voice.

 _TBC_

* * *

 ** _A/N_** **:** _Thank you all for reading! Any review/favorite is greatly appreciated. One more chapter to come, so stay tuned ;) **  
**_


	2. Chapter 2

_He definitely recognizes the voices, would know the sound in a room full of people with music turned all the way up. He's listened to it when it was used to accuse people of murder, promise justice to families, when it quivered when she almost broke into tears._

 _Kate's voice._

* * *

Yup, he definitely hit his head.

But whatever explanation there is, he is not going to let her tell him what to do. In his own home.

"Where _were_ you?" he questions as he storms into the living space, locating her at the kitchen counter.

She narrows her eyes at him, and he thinks she looks different, a little older maybe. Are those hints of wrinkles? He doesn't dwell on the discovery. "Well, I _was_ at the precinct until about two, but then I had to drop the kids off for their trip and you were busy. I just got home."

When he stays silent, she walks towards him. "What's this about?" she questions, and he might imagine it, but there's some concern in her eyes.

"I could ask you the same…"

"Dad!"

His head turns towards the voice, and before he knows it, a girl makes his way over to him and engulfs him in a hug. It wouldn't be so weird if the girl didn't have brown instead of red hair, because whoever this girl is, it's not his Alexis.

"How was your day?"

"Strange…," he manages to get out and the girl laughs.

"I bet. I'm sure you stumble across some pretty weird stuff during research."

"Yeah…" His voice trails off, and out of the corner of his eyes, he notices Beckett continuing to eye him with concern. Whatever role he was expected to play, he wasn't doing a good job.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she suddenly says. "On my way back, I managed to stop by the jeweler's. It's as good as new!" Beckett practically skips over to the dining room table and picks up a ring. Without hesitation, she approaches him, reaches for his left hand, and places it there with certainty. "I do," she says with a teasing smile and stands closer to him.

"Oh, so we're married now?"

Beckett leans back, eyes fixed on his face, but she is still smiling. "For the past twenty years, now, and 'till death do us apart." She plants a quick kiss on his lips, one that makes his heartrate quicken, and goes back into the kitchen to keep whatever is on top of the stove from burning. No matter how confused he is by this entire scenario, his emotions apparently haven't changed. "Now can you please pick up your jacket and then help me set the table? Dinner is almost ready. Lily?" she addresses the girl. "Help me with this."

He doesn't pay attention to what she tells her after. Lily. Nice name. Still doesn't explain why she is in his home, why she calls him dad, why Beckett seems to know her. None of it makes sense.

It's all too bizarre, every bit of him that wanted to yell at her too distracted right now. As he puts away his jacket, his hand brushes against the artifact. The last thing he touched before it all became… different.

He shoots a glance over to the two others, but they are too distracted. So he takes his phone and begins to google, his imagination already running wild.

Except this time, his crazy suspicion is almost immediately confirmed. An artifact that looks exactly like the one he possesses appears as one of the first search results. He skims the text for the most important information, and by the end of it, he is convinced he knows what happened. At least partly.

A voice of reason, albeit a small one, is telling him that _a gateway to another world_ is absurd. He believes in aliens and enjoys the idea of time travel, but there are some fantasies he has begun to doubt – which, partially, might be Beckett's fault.

Right now, however, alternate universe is the only feasible explanation he can come up with. So until he comes across a better one, he'll accept it.

"Dad, what's taking so long?"

Dad. Okay, he is a dad. He can play that role. Now that he knows her name, he can be a more convincing one.

"Rick, I told you to put away your stuff, not to play with your phone. Hurry up!"

Rick. Babe. The ring on his finger. Whatever cruel joke the universe played on him, he is apparently married to Kate Beckett. And though he doesn't want to right now, he can most definitely play the role of loving husband.

He probably won't even have to put that much effort into playing that role either.

"Coming!" he calls as he shoves his phone in his pant pocket. He rushes over to the kitchen to help Beckett and Lily with setting the table.

The meal they prepared smells delicious, and maybe he can use that as an excuse to remain silent throughout most of dinner. Judging by Beckett's looks, he wasn't acting like his 'usual' self, and until he has time to figure everything out, he doesn't want to raise more suspicion.

He digs into the pasta and attentively listens to Lilly recount stories from the college fair she attended today. In many ways, she reminds him of Alexis. Driven, competitive, and a little afraid of what would come after high school. And yet, she is different.

When she laughs or frowns, she looks like Beckett. But her eyes crinkle the way his do. And, from what he can tell so far, she inherited the creative gene, since her narration moved from the fair to rehearsals for an upcoming theater performance. He's sure his mother is proud, whatever alternate universe she's in.

He can't stop looking at her, taking in every detail of her face. In this world, she is his is his daughter. And the moisture gathers in his eyes before he can stop it, because he never thought he'd have another child.

She briefly mentions her brothers, and this is how Castle learns that he has twins as well.

"So, what about you Dad?" she suddenly turns to him.

"What about me?" he returns, his mouth full of unchewed food.

"What discoveries have you made today?"

"Well…" he begins before stopping himself. He was apparently in the library today doing research. But researching what, he doesn't know. "I may have gotten a bit sidetracked…"

"Of course you did," Beckett laughs.

"Rude, Beckett."

They keep giggling and look at him. "Been a while since you called me that at home, Rick."

Shit. "Old habits die hard. Anyway," he continues before they notice anything else. "I stumbled across this artifact that supposedly transports you to another world. Thought it was quite interesting."

"Another world? Like to a different planet?"

"Not exactly. It's more an alternate world, where everything is technically the same – same people, same buildings and all that. But some aspects have changed."

"That still doesn't make much sense," Lily smirks.

"Okay, let me give you an example," he continues, eager to explain it now. "In this world, we are a family. But this artifact could transport you to a world, where Becke- Kate and I were just friends. So if you'd go over to that world, I'd live here by myself – well, and maybe with my mother and another daughter."

Lily bursts out laughing. "Okay, Dad, couple of things. If you and Mom were just friends, how could I travel over there? I don't like to think about it much, but I'm pretty sure that goes against the basic laws of biology – if normal science also exists in that alternate universe of yours. Secondly, grandma moved out long before I was born, and I think Alexis would go insane still living with you."

"Don't ruin my story with your logic," he protests, and Kate can't suppress a grin. "My point is, it's basically the same world. Except at some point in time, something happened that created a different future."

Lily raises her eyebrows. "You seem pretty into this."

Castle shrugs and tries to appear casual. "I just think it's interesting."

Kate just smiles. "You always manage to surprise me with new, crazy theories of yours."

After they finish dinner and cleaning up, Lily disappears upstairs, while Rick and Kate end up on the couch watching a movie.

He feels odd and slightly out of place. He sits on the opposite end of the couch at first, wanting to give her space. But after just minutes, she spreads across the entire length of it, leaning her torso against his.

Draping his arms around her is almost natural to him. Her brushes his hand up and down her arm, and, once she dozed off, places a tentative kiss on the back of her head.

This is all he wants, he realizes. It's just his luck that none of it is real.

But it feels so real, and the anger that put this sick feeling in his gut is replaced by butterflies in his stomach, and if it makes him feels this way, does it really matter if it's not real?

Once the movie is over, he gently wakes her, and he can't keep himself from smiling like an idiot when they fall asleep next to each other.

The next days are just as wonderful, and he was an idiot for thinking he could ever leave Kate behind. Their moments together are magic, her laugh contagious, and the life they have truly everything he could hope for.

This feels real, this is how it should be. And the longer he stays, the more he begins to forget it's not.

He falls in love with Kate Beckett all over again, only this time, she falls for him too.

He looks at their family pictures hung all over the loft, and memorizes the faces of their daughter Lily and their twin sons Jake and Reece. He learns to love them too.

This is what he could have had if thing had gone differently. If she loved him back.

And part of him wants to just stay in this new reality. Another part of him knows he shouldn't.

"Kate," he whispers one evening when they're already in bed with the lights of.

"Hm…"

"How did we fall in love?"

Castle feels her turn around to eye him in the darkness. "What?"

"How did we fall in love?" he repeats.

She laughs silently and lays back down. "You know exactly how."

"Can you tell me?"

Kate shifts. "Why?"

He sighs. "It's hard to explain. I just… I'm so happy, and I'd always like to remember how we got here."

She stays silent for a long time after that, and for a moment he wonders if she fell asleep or if she just doesn't want to respond.

"I don't know when exactly we fell in love," she breaks the silence. "You once claimed I fell in love with you the moment we met."

"Sounds reasonable," he murmurs and she scoffs.

"I'm not having that argument with you again. It just… it happened. For years, there was this tension between us. And no matter who else we went out with, it never worked out. But our partnership always worked out."

"Always?"

She pauses. "No, not always. You know we had some rocky moments. Especially before we got together."

"What happened?"

"You know what happened," she retorts.

"Tell me," he asks gently, and after a few breaths, Kate continues.

"So much. My mom's case, mostly. I put up walls and hid behind them. Made you wait too long. And the lies… I think that was our biggest fight, once the truths came out."

"And then?" he prompts, anxiously awaiting her response.

"We both realized we really wanted to be with each other. And that some things are more important than others. Finally being honest and learning to handle the truth together – it's the best decision we made."

His lips find hers in the darkness, and Castle realizes that this alternate universe might not be that far away from reality after all.

If this world's Castle and Beckett found together, why shouldn't they?

If this world's Beckett was in love with him, who said the one in his world isn't?

What if she is just as scared to stop hiding behind her walls as this Kate is? What if she has the same worries, the same regrets?

He told Lily that one event could create a different future. He has seen the future in which they are honest about their feelings for each other. He has seen a future where they are finally together. He doesn't want to see a future where they're not.

He can barely hold himself back from jumping out of bed. Instead, he waits for Kate to fall asleep. He places a kiss on her forehead, possibly the last for quite some time, gets up and walks through the loft to retrieve his jacket.

Once he's outside, he receives a few stares for wearing pajamas outside, but it's New York, and so people don't pay him too much attention. He walks up and down the sidewalk, medallion in hand. He never took it out of his jacket.

Castle now knows he wants to get back, wants for this fantasy to become reality, but he has no idea how he got here in the first place.

Unable to do anything else and incapable of standing still, he begins strolling down the sidewalk. He has no destination in mind except for home, his _real_ home. And he will try his best to get there as fast as he can.

He has been walking aimlessly for nearly an hour, when a construction site on the sidewalk blocks his path. He has to cross the road, but there are no traffic lights, and the streets are busy.

"I just want to go home," he mutters under his breath.

He spots a gap in traffic, one that should allow him to cross the road and continue his frantic walk through the city. He doesn't check again and steps onto the street.

He hears tires screech, and that's when he feels a thud and his world goes dark.

* * *

"Castle?" Hands, gentle hands holding his face.

"Castle?" Checking his pulse. A sigh of relief.

"Castle?!"

He recognizes this voice. Heard it talking to twin boys on the phone and asking a girl about her day. Heard it tell him 'I love you.'

He heard it before falling asleep.

And now he hears it as he's waking up.

Her face appears right in front of him, a bit blurry at first. But then his eyes focus, and he sees her concern, sees it replaced by relief as he begins to move.

The ground of the coal plant isn't exactly comfortable, and he sits up. She's not hovering over him anymore but still close, and she makes no attempt to move away.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she whispers.

"What happened?" he asks, although his brain is already putting the pieces together. Whatever happened, he's back.

"I don't know. We got separated. Ryan and Espo arrived and helped take care of the situation. I went to look for you."

"Thanks," he murmurs, and the silence that settles between them reminds him that this Beckett and he have not yet worked out their issues.

"Beckett?" He says and her gaze meets his. "Kate, I…" He can't find the words, and so he simply closes the distance between them and simply kisses her.

It's a new experience and yet so familiar, and his heart sings when he feels her kissing back.

He doesn't know how long it lasts, minutes or seconds. All he knows is that it ends too soon.

When they break apart, he notices that water has gathered in her eyes and is threatening to spill over.

"Shh, Kate, it's okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"No," she stops him. "I'm sorry. I screwed up. I heard you, I remember. And I want to be right for you, but you deserve so much more, so much better." She doesn't quite manage to stop a few tears from running down her cheeks, and she wipes them away angrily.

"Kate, stop," he jumps in before she can continue. "I've realized one thing. We deserve each other. This is what I want."

She swallows hard but doesn't respond immediately. "But Kate. You have to want it too."

"I do."

The way she says it reminds him so much of the first time he met her in the alternate world, reminiscing about their wedding, and he can't contain his smile.

"I guess I have a lot to explain…," she mumbles, but she is no longer crying.

"I do too," he admits, and he dreads the fight that is bound to happen. He wishes he could skip to them being a happy couple. But what is a great love story without obstacles?

"Beckett? Castle? You there somewhere?" they hear Ryan call.

"Let's talk about this tonight, okay?" she whispers and quickly kisses him on the cheek.

"Yes, tonight."

And with that, they get off the dirty concrete and move outside.

They have a lot to work through, a lot to admit and discuss. But for now, they are right where they are supposed to be.

Side by side.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for reading this story. It's been a while since I've written and finished something in a while, so it was nice to finally get something out there again. Life's been busy (uni, my BA thesis, and other projects), and I didn't feel inspired, but fingers crossed I won't disappear for months again (encouragement might help with that? :P)

 _Full prompt: "Guys, think about this! It's set post "47 seconds " or "The Limey". Castle is so hurt and angry that he's sure he and Beckett will part on very bad terms but then "Time of our lives" happens and he meets teenager Lily and future Kate and wants that reality so bad that when he comes back, he kisses Beckett like there is no tomorrow and she breaks down, telling him the truth."_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** To avoid the confusion my weird scene changes have caused (I'll work on it I promise): Both universes from the previous chapters appear in this chapter.

* * *

 _"Let's talk about this tonight, okay?" she whispers and quickly kisses him on the cheek._

 _"Yes, tonight."_

 _And with that, they get off the dirty concrete and move outside._

 _They have a lot to work through, a lot to admit and discuss. But right now, they are right where they are supposed to be._

 _Side by side._

* * *

The beeping of monitors makes him stir, the annoyingly repetitive sound forcing him out of his peaceful slumber. He has trouble remembering why he would be sleeping next to a monitor, but he's sure it'll come back to him. He's also sure he'll care a little more about the details once the meds he appears to have been drugged with wear off.

He moves slightly and can't suppress a groan that escaped his lips. Not enough meds in his system. He is in pain. Great pain. He doesn't know what hurts most. His entire ride side is throbbing and sends waves of heat through his body. The tiniest movement of his muscles makes him want to hiss. There are bandages on his face, and frowning hurts, but so does relaxing it.

He forces his eyes open, immediately noticing the white walls and the hospital bed he's in.

Castle isn't a fan of hospitals. Never has been, never will be, and the amount of times he's been in one during the time he followed Kate during her time as a detective hasn't made him enjoy them any more. Of course, not all memories were bad. The days this sons and daughters were born weren't just his happiest memories in a hospital, they might be some of his happiest memories ever. Celebrating Ryan's second kid's safe delivery after several nerve-wracking hours had been fantastic. But despite all this, he'd witnessed too many bad things to ever get over his severe dislike of hositals. Having the memory of his now wife fighting for her life burned into this brain and resufacing each time he enters one certainly doesn't help.

Only moments later, her face appears in front of his, and whatever situation he got himself into, seeing her here with him assures him it'll all be okay. When she's around, it always is.

"How do you feel?" she asks, running her fingers through his hair, careful to avoid the bandages.

"Like I got hit by a truck," he tries to joke, but when the smile that has begun to form on her face disappears upon his remark, he realizes it might not be that far away from the truth.

Though he'd really like to know how.

* * *

There is a weird tension between them for the remainder of the day after they leave the coal plant.

They catch the murderer; there is enough evidence to prove he committed the crime, they even caught his partner. But instead of the grim satisfaction that usually comes afterwards, Castle can't decide whether he is excited or scared.

The routine and seeming normalcy of it all drives him crazy. From an outsider's perspective, everything is the way it always is. Procedure is followed, leads were investigated, suspects are caught and interrogated, loose ends are tied. Normal.

Except nothing is normal today, because they kissed.

He kissed Kate and she kissed back, and it wasn't to maintain a cover on a risky rescue mission.

Nothing is normal today, because they are honest about their feelings without someone bleeding out on the ground.

The knot in his stomach won't quite go away. Only this time, it's not because he is brooding over the fact that she doesn't want to be with him, but because he's terrified that he'll drive her away before they even get a chance. That his confession is what pushes her away for good. And this time, it really will be his fault and his fault only.

She's always sensitive when it comes to her mom's case. But this is different.

In their first year of working together, she was mad at him for digging into it again after she told him not to. She didn't want the information he gave her with the best intentions, but in spite of her wishes. Now, he kept information from her with the best intentions, but in spite of her wishes. Again.

Castle knows why he hid it from her, that keeping the mysterious man and whatever details he revealed ans possibly concealed about Johanna Beckett's murder was a way to protect her from further harm. He knows that letting her in on the deal would have made her plummet right back into her obsession – both with her mom's case and her own. He knows that he did it to help her. He knows he did it to keep her alive.

He knows she won't see it that way. But in every moment of doubt, he thinks back to the Kate he met - imaginary or not - that showed him that there could be a way for them to be happy together.

Every interaction they have after their kiss and promise to talk is tentative, cautious.

When she looks up from her paperwork and notices him watching her, she gives him a slight smile before returning to her. When he brings her a cup of coffee, their fingers touch, and their hands linger for a moment before she takes it from him.

Time seems to crawl, and yet it's time to go home too soon for his liking. Going home means talking, and they're not very good at that.

 _Yet_ , he tries to convince himself. They can learn.

He shoots a text to Alexis letting her know he will be home later without further explanation. He doesn't know if he could even give one.

Ryan and Espo already left the precinct, and he spots Kate shoving her belongings into her jacket and getting ready to leave. She lifts her head when he approaches.

"So…," he begins awkwardly. "Can we talk?"

He feels stupid, but he doesn't know what else to say. Richard Castle, author of over a dozen bestsellers, is at loss for words.

"Yeah," she murmurs and looks down at the floor. Apparently, he isn't the only one that doesn't know how to approach this. "We could go to my place, if that's okay with you. I just… want a quiet spot so Remy's isn't a good idea, and I know Alexis or Martha might be…"

"Sure, that's fine," he jumps in, trying to sound enthusiastic but accidentally overdoing it, causing his voice to be three pitches higher than usual.

She just nods in agreement and moves towards the elevator with him awkwardly shuffling after her.

Weeks ago, they would have exchanged jokes, anecdotes, tossed around ideas of going to the Old Haunt or grabbing some comfort food. Days ago, he would have avoided being in the same elevator as her, stayed mostly silent when they spent time alone.

Today, they talk, but none of the words hold meaning. They're stalling until they get somewhere more private.

They keep up lighthearted smalltalk throughout their entire journey to her apartment, but once they step through the door, silence settles between them once more.

Neither of them knows where to begin. He observes her nervously shifting her weight and playing with her hands, and eventually turning her back to him and going into the kitchen to get them both something to drink.

For one moment, he fears she regrets her admission and is now looking for an easy way out.

But then he remembers their kiss, a kiss that proved she doesn't want out, and his heart begins to flutter uncontrollably. His head is still dizzy, whether from the explosion this morning or kissing her he doesn't know. Maybe it's both.

Castle can hear Kate moving back into the living room where he is now sitting, and he almost wishes she would take longer, give him time to prepare what to say, but then he remembers he has been trying to find the right words for nearly four years.

The only thing that somewhat calms his nerves is the image he has of their future. Real or not, he knows there is a future where they work through their issues, where they win their battle, where they come out of this as a team, as partners, as a couple.

Beckett places their coffees on the table and joins him on the couch but on the other end, giving both of them space. He misses the Kate that cuddles up with him, and it makes him want to fix this more. If only he knew how.

"I'm sorry Castle," Kate whispers, and her voice is full of regret. "I know that's not enough, but that's all I can say. I was scared, I was lost, and I thought I was doing what was best for us. I was wrong."

It stings. To hear her say that she thought keeping her secret would be best for them for the time being. It hurts because it's exactly what he thought he was doing. He's seen what damage her secret did. He can only imagine what his will do.

"I don't know what to say, Rick," she admits, and his eyes meet hers. He recognizes her fear, her sadness, but through it all, he discovers hope that he's sure is mirrored in his eyes. "I want to apologize, but I don't know how or how it will fix anything, if it can." She stops herself and her lips press together in a tight line. "Please say something," she murmurs, nervously pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Castle sighs, tries to gather his thoughts and confess everything, tries to prepare himself for the storm about to come down on him.

"You should know something first," he rasps, and he can sense her confusion, but she tries to smile at him encouragingly. His ears are ringing and his chest feels tight, and maybe they should open a window because it's too hot in here and he thinks he's forgotten how to breathe, and there is definitely a headache coming. But he has to let her know first.

It's like an out-of-body experience. Castle no longer feels like he is truly there, and everything sounds like someone stuffed cotton balls in his ears. He can feel his lips moving, he can hear himself speak, but he doesn't know what he's saying.

All he knows is that he seems to tell her the truth about Smith and the deal, because she tenses up, her tiny smile slowly turns into a frown, and that that little spark of hope in her eyes dims. He can practically see her building her walls back up. Any progress he made in breaking it down is gone in an instant, and he's less confident he will ever break through it again.

Part of him wants to stop talking but he can't, it's like he lost control of his body. He knows that while he's still talking, she won't stop him, too captivated by his confession and absorbing the information she is getting on her mom's murder.

The ringing in his ears is overpowering, gives him a headache, but Castle notices he's now stopped talking. The silence is unbearable. It probably only last a few breaths, but it feels like eternity.

Beckett has gotten off the couch, paces from right to left in front of him, and when she stops and faces him, that's when she finally speaks.

Or yells. He tries to focus on what she's saying, trying to make out if there is anything he can do to save their relationship. But he can feel that little bit of optimism he had earlier fleeting away quickly, practically vanishes within seconds, and he wishes he wouldn't have gotten his hopes up again. He scolds himself for being so naive.

All hope is crushed again, only this time, he can only blame himself. He was angry at her for lying. Can he blame her for returning the sentiment?

He wonders what would have happened if he hadn't accepted Smith's deal or if he'd told her sooner, but it's too late. He wonders how this mess was ever supposed to turn out okay, what cruel trick his imagination played on him, in what universe this course of events doesn't cause their relationship to go up in flames immediately.

He thinks he can make out the sound of her snarl turning into screams. Although his vision is fuzzy, he can see tears well up, and knowing he's the reason they're there breaks his heart.

He wants to take reach out to her, but she's too far away or maybe she backed away from him. He's dizzy, and the last thing he sees is her face contorted in disappointment and sadness.

When Castle wakes up, he's in a hospital.

* * *

When he peels open his eyes a second time, the white walls are gone.

His mind is racing, trying to piece together why he would no longer be in the hospital. Not that he minds, technically. He just minds not knowing what happened. He's dealt with memory loss in the past, he would like to avoid repeating the experience. And he'd really like to stop waking up in random spots with no proper explanation.

He feels fine, the pain is apparently gone, but there is no way he healed that quickly, considering he had trouble moving just a few hours ago.

Maybe they moved his bed to another section of the hospital?

He is still a bit drowsy, so it takes him a bit to take in his new surroundings.

When he does, all drowsiness leaves him in an instant. It's definitely not another section of the hospital.

This isn't the loft, _their_ home. This is Kate's old apartment, the one she had before she moved into his loft.

How in the world did he get here?

* * *

 **A/N** : Alrighty, I wasn't planning to continue this story, but after two chapters, I felt like I could maybe keep going. Granted, this chapter comes weeks after the original ones, but life happens. Please be patient with me, especially since this is only my 2nd multichapter ever, and also the first one I didn't plan for originally, so this is new territory for me. No idea how many chapters there will be exactly, maybe 5, maybe 10, who knows. I appreciate anyone reading this :) Thank you for all the feedback and suggestions you guys have given me, keep it coming!


	4. Chapter 4

_He wants to take reach out to her, but she's too far away or maybe she backed away from him. He's dizzy, and the last thing he sees is her face contorted in disappointment and sadness._

 _When Castle wakes up, he's in a hospital._

* * *

His brain is still buzzing, his senses still overwhelming him, but he can tell something is off despite his disorientation. He notices the annoyingly repetitive beeping of a monitor, and once his eyes focus, he can make out the white sheets and walls of a hospital room.

Castle isn't a big fan of hospitals. Never has been, never will be, and especially in recent years, he didn't have any good memories in them. The day Alexis was born is probably the only exception. But the rest he associates with suffering underlined by a strong smell of disinfectant and other things he doesn't want to identitfy. Waiting behind closed doors while Kate was fighting for her life was a particularly painful memory, perhaps the worst.

His whole body aches, and the phrase 'feeling like having been hit by a truck' makes a lot more sense to him now. As he stirs slightly and has to grit his teeth in response to the searing pain jolting through his body, he wonders how much truth there might be in that statement.

Maybe he just blacked out after his fight with Kate. Maybe he rushed out of her apartment, headless, too distracted by what was said. Maybe he crossed the street without looking. It's entirely possible he stopped paying attention to the world around him, since the world around him seemed to have stopped the moment he realized he would not be able to salvage their relationship – whatever it was – this time around.

"Hey, you're awake again!" he suddenly hears her voice, so cheerful and relieved.

And although he doesn't expect her to want him dead, no matter what has been said or done, he cannot imagine a scenario where she rushed to the hospital to stay by his side after what he just admitted to her.

Kate's face appears in his vision, and she is actually approaching him, not trying to widen the distance between them like she did earlier.

That's all the indication he needs, even before she is close enough for him to spot the subtle hints of aging. Because as much as he hopes – though he realizes it's probably just wishful thinking – that Kate will forgive him eventually, five weeks, months, or years from now, he knows that not enough time has passed for her to return to him.

Although he could have been in a coma.

What a great, melodramatic plot that would be. After two people realize their feelings for each other, they have a huge fight. One of them storms out, too occupied with his own thoughts to notice anything, convinced all hope is lost. Then, an accident changes everything…. He should pitch the idea to Nicholas Sparks. Or had he already written something like this? He'd have to look it up.

However, as much as he could get behind the idea of being part of a story worthy of being played in a movie theater to a sobbing audience, the more likely explanation is that he is in an alternate reality again. The universe in which they have already moved past everything like he was trying to. The universe in which he is pretty sure he walked onto a street without double-checking for cars. Without the medallion or any clue as to how to get back or how exactly he got here in the first place. Crap.

Kate stopped just inches away, close enough for him to reach out. Castle realizes he hasn't said anything yet, and he can see her anxiously awaiting a response. Because this Kate cares about him.

"Hey," he rasps, and she offers him a tentative smile.

"How are you doing?"

He gives a weak chuckle. "Been better."

Kate slumps and drops her shoulders, and he realizes how much tension she was holding.

"You scared me," she admits on a whisper.

"Why?"

His question makes her narrow her eyes at him. "You don't remember?"

Castle tries to shrug, but the movement makes him wince in pain.

She sighs. "You got lucky. I don't know what guardian angel protected you, or what devil you made a deal with, but most of your injuries are superficial. The vehicle slowed down enough to prevent serious harm. Most of what you have is an impressive amount of bruising, some wounds you had to get stitches for, but that's pretty much it. No broken bones. It's a miracle, really."

"Yeah," he murmurs after a brief pause. "Sounds like it."

"You woke up for the first time hours ago, just for five minutes or so." The corners of her lips twitch upward a little. "I guess that's why you forgot all I told you. You immediately joked about your luck once you figured out what happened. And then you told me not to tell the kids so they won't worry or come back from their trip."

Right, their kids. Because this universe is cruel enough to show him what they could have, and what he would never have now.

He can't hide his temporary confusion as he tries to recall everything he knows about this place. And with Kate having years of experience as a detective, it doesn't go unnoticed.

There is a line that appears on her forehead, and Castle can tell she's thinking hard. "Maybe we should have you checked out by a doctor for head injuries."

"They didn't already do that?"

Kate looks to the floor. "They did. I just… thought it might be best to make sure. You know, since…"

Because he is acting weird. Because he had memories of their life here just hours before, after acting strangely right before getting hit. Because for all she knows, he is suffering from some kind of memory loss, a medical phenomenon that usually doesn't happen to an otherwise perfectly healthy man.

"You've been off all day," she explains like she read his thoughts. "I'm just worried."

"My head is probably fine," he tries to argue, but it doesn't sound convincing. Of course there is no reasonable way for him to explain his sudden loss of memory, at least not one that Kate Beckett would ever believe, in any universe ever.

"So what's wrong?" she asks, a mix of concern and curiostiy audible, and he almost tells her, but stops himself. His version of events is not gonna convince her he didn't suffer any serious brain damage.

"You wouldn't want to hear it," he says in an attempt to pass it off as nothing, but she won't just let him off the hook that easily.

"Since when do you care?" she laughs, and she actually succeeds in making him smile. "We've been married for _years_ , Rick. I can handle one more crazy theory," she coaxes, but he just shakes his head slightly.

"This is about that alternate world, right?" she guesses, and he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

He tries to regain his composure, wants to continue playing the part of her happy husband, not the broken ex-partner. But his reaction was obvious, and with her observing him like a hawk and having years of experience in reading him, he knows he gave it away.

Kate nervously bites her lip. "I'm gonna go get the doctor," she whispers and heads out the door, but not before shooting him another worried gaze.

The thoughts are racing through his head, making it hard to form a clear one. He tries to fit the pieces together, figure out the logistics, because even journeys to other universes - and he really is convinced he is in one; the elements here too real for him to make up in his mind - have to follow some set of rules.

Castle thinks back to when he first came here. He believed it was the medallion that brought him here, but more importantly, he was brought to a world that provided answers to all the "what if's" he kept wondering about. Coming here allowed him to see what could be, what he was fighting for and still refuses to accept as out of reach.

This world was a gateway to the answers he needed. The second time, he wondered how they would ever be okay, and he was brought right back.

Maybe he can find some answers. Only this time, instead of just showing him what could be, he hopes he receives clearer instructions on how to get there. He clearly can't figure them out himself.

So he needs to talk to the one person who knows. This Kate knows him, has dealt with his overactive imagination for years and stayed, has probably heard this world's version of him utter ideas that haven't even crossed his own mind yet.

He hears her heels click on the floor, the sound increasing in volume as she gets closer to his room and eventually steps in.

"Kate," he starts, because the faster he gets answers, the faster he can leave. He can get his life on track somehow (he hopes she can tell him how), and she can get her husband back. "Can you let me explain?"

He doesn't have to explain what he means. She slowly shakes her head. "I know I said I'm used to your theories, but please give me some time to process. So much happened in such a short time."

He nods understandingly, forgetting and then ignoring the discomfort that comes with any form of movement.

"Can we go home?" he asks instead, and is delighted to see another smile form.

"I figured you'd be eager to. Doctors aren't too keen on letting you leave just yet. They wanna keep an eye on you for at least another day. After that, because all your tests came back clean, and the injuries you do have don't require a medical team, but time and rest – which you can get at home – they are willing to discharge you. If you promise to lay still on a couch or bed."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"Really? The last time you were injured and had to stay still, you were the most annoying person I've ever met."

He gasps. "It couldn't have been that bad."

"Like a giant, whining baby. None of ours were ever that bad," she laughs and her eyes twinkle, but his subtle indication that he has no recollection of that incident isn't lost on her, evident when Kate's eyes scan his body once more and linger on his head before locking eyes with him again.

Castle is itching to ask his questions, but holds back, doing what he does best: giving her time and space. Except this Kate doesn't need that much space, he realizes, as she walks up to his side and gently puts one hand on his, reaches out and carefully caresses his face with the other.

The day continues, and after some time, Kate climbs into the hospital bed with him, after the nurse who came in to check on him left. The bed is too narrow, and each brush of her against his sensitive skin sends a jolt of pain through him, but it's worth it. When he first flinches, she moves to get up, but he pulls her back in and ignores his protesting body.

Holding her, getting to be close with her like he wants, mends wounds not visible on the outside, comforts him in ways he didn't expect, fixes him in ways stitches and band aids can't. He thinks Kate can tell, because she doesn't make an attempt to leave his side again, at least not until she thinks he has fallen asleep.

She carefully peels away from him and takes a seat next to his bed, but even though they lied next to each other for hours, he immediately misses the contact. But moments later, he feels her reach out and brush her thumb across the back of his hand, the soothing contact slowly lulling him to sleep.

Castle wakes again when sun rays shine directly onto his eyes. He squints against the light and slightly turns his head, away from the brightness. He can make out her figure by the window, and moments later, the curtains are pulled shut, and he can make out more differences than brightness and shades.

Kate returns to her chair by his bedside. "Good morning."

"Morning," he murmurs, observing her features.

Her lips her pursed, her brows furrowed, and she stares at him intently. She's contemplating something, trying to figure out what to say next or how. They don't have the best track record of talking, resolving problems, but her face is so serious, he feels like she has an important issue to discuss. He is almost scared, scared that he managed to drive her away, scare her off. Again.

"I'm ready to hear it."

He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

He considers it for a moment, sees her anxiously wait for what she's already convinced is gonna be his most obscure story yet, preparing her response and trying to reason with him, all before he even revealed anything.

Kate might say she's ready to hear it, but he isn't sure that's true. Nevertheless, he might have to try.

"I can wait some more," he reassures her, an offer to escape and take it back. "Not sure you can handle the insanity of it all."

She laughs at him, the sound music to his ears, a sound that he's barely heard over these past weeks in his world, so rare ever since he distanced himself. "I've survived years of ridiculous tales. I've heard all about alien invasions, the zombie apocalypse, time travel, and more conspiracy theories than I could even count. What's one more fairytale?"

"Zombie apocalypse?!" he exclaims. "How _cool_."

"It wasn't a zombie apocalypse, it was just people _dressed_ like zombies," she corrects. "Don't change topics."

He pouts, eliciting another laugh, and he knows that he will always try to brighten her day, to make her laugh even when she doesn't think she could even muster a smile that day.

It's evident she is determined to hear his story now, no matter how made up it is going to sound. So he begins. Briefly recounts their partnership to her up until this point, which he realizes is stupid, considering she is just as familiar with it as he is. But it feels necessary somehow, because even though he knows Kate Beckett, has memorized every feature, habit, those parts of her story sh trusted him with and those he had to piece together himself, this Beckett is different. Less guarded, more relaxed, and he feels he needs to remind her of who she used to be, to explain to her the situation that he is in.

She doesn't interrupt him, lets him speak, keeps her face clear of all judgement, and only nods to affirm she is still paying attention. But after he reaches the case that lead them to the coal plant, she stops him.

"You're saying you think the other world you travelled to is here?" He nods. "So you were shown what you really wanted?" He nods again, confused as he tries to figure out what is going through her mind.

"By coming here, I realized what I wanted most could be achieved. When I went back, I was determined to fix it all, to work towards everything I witnessed here." He frowns. "I guess that was a bit too idealistic."

The slight tilt of her head prompts him to continue. "We went to your place to talk. You apologized, and for one brief moment, I thought we would figure it out. Until I told you about Smith and you…"

"… went ballistic," she finishes for him before pressing her lips together.

"Yeah I guess so. And I couldn't help but wonder how on earth were gonna overcome this. I'd seen a world where we did, but I didn't have the slightest idea how that was possible. I still don't."

Kate leans back in her chain, puts her hands against her forehead and pushed her hair out of her face.

"Rick…," she starts, and he still isn't entirely used to her using his first name outside of near-death experiences or in their rare moments of emotional vulnerability. "We had that fight. And we had that case. But not on the same day."

"What?"

She pauses for another moment, trying to figure out how to recount stories to him he should already know, but he can't pretend he does, not when he needs answers so badly.

"We had that fight. I don't like to remember it, but it's one of those things you can't forget. And we had that case. Except it was different, and it happened more than two years after our fight. You didn't tell me straight away, but when you did, you also claimed to have travelled to another universe then. Is it possible you're just dreaming this other version of events now?"

"So you're willing to admit that the original story I told was real?"

She rolls her eyes at him. "All I'm saying is that you never mentioned any other world before. It kinda appeared out of the blue."

"For the purpose of this story, bear with me a little longer," he pleads, and she slowly nods. "So what happened there?"

"We were in a weird place. When you… travelled to another world, as you put it, you emerged in a world in which we never met." His eyebrows shoot up. "But Rick," she quickly continues, "you never actually went anywhere. You were right there, at that coal plant, we just got separated and the explosion knocked you out for a bit."

"What good did that world do? I can't imagine it inspired me to fight to reach that outcome," he tries to joke, but it falls flat. His head is spinning, trying to wrap his mind around how two version of this case can exist, so different from one another.

"It showed you what you wanted to avoid. It proved we were right for each other. This case… it wasn't before we dated." She looks him straight in the eye. "Rick, we got married that day."

His mouth falls open in disbelief. He is stunned, unable to get a word out, to ask more questions even though he still has so many.

She rises from her chair, runs her fingers through his hair. "Get some rest. You've been through a lot."

"What if I go away again after I fall asleep?" he manages to get out, even as he notices that she is right, and his body struggles to fight against the strain of taking in so much information at once.

It seems entirely plausible. And for her, maybe even desirable, because the Castle she wants and loves doesn't have to ask for the answers he seeks. It hurts, to realize that even a Kate that is in love with Richard Castle doesn't love him.

She doesn't answer, and exhaustion wins.

As he drifts off, he wonders if him being here means that the other Castle is now trapped in his (their?) mess.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! :) All feedback is appreciated; thanks for the comments on the previous chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

_"What if I go away again after I fall asleep?" he manages to get out, even as he notices that she is right, and his body struggles to fight against the strain of taking in so much information at once._

 _It seems entirely plausible. And for her, maybe even desirable, because the Castle she wants and loves doesn't have to ask for the answers he seeks._

 _As he drifts off, he wonders if him being here means that the other Castle is now trapped in his (their?) mess._

* * *

The floor isn't exactly comfortable.

He doesn't generally mind sitting on the ground, sometimes opts to sit on it rather than the couch or any other chair in the loft. Sometimes he enjoys devouring takeout on the ground with Kate and their kids opposite and around him. Sometimes it is just more practical for game nights – or nights of strip poker, but those only happen with the kids out of the loft, since they want to avoid awkward parent-child run-ins like that.

Sometimes he sits on the floor just because he likes the change of perspective.

In this moment however, he would very much prefer to be on a couch or even back in the hospital bed. With his cheek pressed into the ground, and no game or takeout in sight, there is simply no appeal to laying here.

The way he's lying there, with his limbs in slightly odd angles and the lack of cushioning between his face and the floor, tells him he probably didn't mean to descend to the ground, which might also explain why is head is pounding.

Maybe he hit his head and is now hallucinating being in her old place?

She doesn't even own it anymore, hasn't for years; he can't even recall the last time he set foot into this apartment. But from what he can see from this position, it looks just like he remembered it. Which is odd.

The furniture in it should be completely ruined by now – and gone, considering she threw nearly all of it out and gave the rest away.

He still hasn't moved, except for experimental tilts of his head and carefully moving his arms and legs to test whether he actually feels any pain. To his surprise, his head is the only thing bothering him, but all injuries from the accident seem to have disappeared.

He prides himself on an active imagination, but he grudgingly admits that he doesn't yet have an explanation for it.

As the pounding in his head recedes, he hears footsteps approach, and Castle is sure he recognizes the pattern.

It's what he hears when they get their kids ready for school in the morning, or just outside the door when she finally comes home after a long day at work. The sound of these footsteps is constant background music in his life and has been for decades now.

The feet come closer, but their owner stops several feet away from his body on the ground.

"Good, you're awake," he hears her voice, dry, and he senses the restraint, the attempt to control anger he doesn't comprehend. It is barely concealed and simmers just below the surface, threatening to boil over any second.

Rick isn't too worried about it though – not yet, anyway. They've had fights before, she's been mad at him even when he had no idea why. But years of following a detective have taught him how to figure out the greatest mysteries.

And years of being married to her have taught him how to figure out the mystery that is Kate Beckett.

He moves slowly, determined to get up, and again notices that no pain from the accident returns or bothers him. Even breathing hurt before, anything that caused his bruised skin to move, but it doesn't cause any issues now. Maybe they drugged him to the point where it wouldn't. Maybe this is all a dream induced by morphine.

Which would explain the strangeness of it all. And if they gave him enough, perhaps that's why everything feels so real, like he is truly here in a place that should no longer exist the way it does right now.

He manages to sit, and halts there for a moment. He doesn't want to risk fainting ( _again?_ ) by getting up too quickly.

Rick starts observing, starts treating everything as a clue, a hint as to what is going on.

He starts by trying to go with easiest explanation, and, if he's being honest with himself, the only one he can come up with right now: This is a dream. But if this really were a dream, why would he be dreaming about this moment? Why return to an apartment he honestly almost forgot ever existed? If this really were a dream, why would Kate be keeping her distance?

If he has dreams about Kate, if he remembers them at all, she is definitely closer, much, much closer, and they would … but that's obviously not happening.

He looks up, straight into her eyes – eyes that are currently shooting daggers at him. He scans her, looks her up and down, and it doesn't go unnoticed if the signs of growing annoyance on her face are any indication. But she hasn't said anything else yet, determined to wait him out, to intimidate and scare him out of her space - or to snap at him the second he opens his mouth and tries to talk to her.

Rick can't remember the last time he's seen her like this.

Not just with this expression, but with this exact appearance.

The Kate in front of him is undoubtedly younger. Kate aged gracefully; the lines on her face fine and barely visible and mostly evidence of all the times she laughed and smiles, greying strands in her hair were dyed over or barely visible in the caramel tones of the rest. But none of this was visible right now, no signs of age showing on any part of Kate's body.

The way she stands, though he is used to her upright and confident stance, is different. It's not just confidence he sees, it's a shield. Her strong stance more a warrior's pose prepared for battle, ready to defend or attack. He can see the wall she used to put up years ago, that is nothing but rubble now. Or at least it should be.

But nothing here is as it should be.

He's seen everything there is to see from here, even his seated position limiting his view on the rest of the scene. Which could contain valuable clues.

Rick succeeds in getting up and sways for a moment, trying to regain his balance, but he also notes it's much easier than what he is used to or expected. None of his own signs of age are nagging him. He straightens without the pop of his knee or back, without any stiffness in his bones or muscles.

Her expression has softened somehow as she watched him struggle to get up, although it's obvious she tries to keep up a distanced façade. Now that he is up again, she eyes him wearily, distanced. Through it all, he can see a slight hint of concern in her glare.

They are both still silent, engaging in a staring contest.

He waits for a few breaths, then opens his mouth to say something, ask a question, he isn't sure. Kate takes his attempt at speaking as her cue to unleash her frustration again, the cool restraint from earlier gone in seconds.

He listens, and the more he hears, the more information he can use to piece everything together.

She spits out accusations of him breaking her trust, being irresponsible, inconsiderate, playing cop and making games out of crimes and her life, withholding information that would finally let her solve her mother's murder and _what? They solved that years ago._

"Kate," he starts and takes a step towards her, trying to get a word in and explain himself – though what he is going to explain, he isn't sure, still isn't sure of why he's here, why they're revisiting a fight from before they were dating.

If this is a dream, it's a nightmare with her being this angry. But it has to be, right, because even with his head trying to come up with a story worthy of another bestseller, it is the only explanation he can come up with. And if it's a dream, it will be over soon. It has to be.

 _Then why does it feel so real?_

She dodges his attempt to close the distance between them, taking one step back the second he takes one towards her.

Kate crosses her arms, raises her chin defiantly, solidifying the barrier between them.

Rick sighs and closes his eyes, trying to wake himself. He just wants to go back to the Kate he knows, to have her embrace him. Even if they fight now, there is always some openness, respect for the other's feelings, letting the other know they will be heard. This person looks like Kate, talks like her, but he just _knows_ it's not his wife, it can't.

He opens his eyes, and she is still there, watching his every move. Not a dream then. _But what else?_

"You should leave," she states, her voice toneless, cold.

She moves around him, out of his sight.

He wants follow her suggestion, to just leave. He just wants to find his way back to a different world where he can make sense of it all.

 _A different world?_

He doesn't linger on the thought, can't afford to when there is a furious Kate Beckett stomping through the apartment. He can't walk out on her, it's not what they do, not anymore. He will figure out this fight first, and then they can figure out his situation. They've always been better together after all.

He rushes after her, ignoring her request – order would be more accurate – to go. He follows her through the once so familiar apartment.

Castle stops dead in his tracks when he reaches her, standing right in front of the self-made murder board. A quick glance is all it takes for him to realize which case this is.

 _No, no._ They should have finished that years ago. They were past that. They hadn't just found the man who killed Johanna Beckett, they found out why, who was involved, who ordered the strike, how it was covered up. Even took down an entire operation that turned the person they considered the mastermind into a puppet.

Coonan, Bracken, LokSat, all taken care of.

He quickly glances to the back of her head while she intently stares at the board. He shifts his eyes back to the board, scanning it. It doesn't take long for him to figure out how incomplete it is; there is no mention of a bank account that connects to Bracken, not even a mention of Maddox.

One moment more and he figures out the reason why some of those connections haven't been made: the mystery man, Mr. Smith, is completely absent from the murder board.

Suddenly, it hits him.

He doesn't know how or why he is here, but he knows exactly at what point in time all of this went down, remembers it all too well.

Kate doesn't turn around to face him, but with him practically breathing down her neck, she can sense his presence whether she wants to or not.

"You're still here," she remarks dryly. He stays silent. "So how can I find this mystery man?" she inquires.

Because of course she wants to know. This man is the key to this investigation, the lead she needs to finally advance. He is who leads them to the files, who ultimately helps them connect Bracken to the case. One murder and the information he has are all it will take to drive Kate into her obsession again, what makes her fall into the rabbit hole, what causes her to almost be killed ... again.

He could tell her everything now, but he hesitates. He isn't sure why. He doesn't want to replay this moment, has no idea what cruel trick the universe played on him to have him relive it.

He could tell her everything now, because he is aware that it will end well. For her, for him, for them.

He could tell her everything now, deal with them walking out of each other's lives before their passionate reunion that stormy night where apologies and forgiveness were given in breathless kisses and gentle caresses.

He could tell her everything now, but he stops himself.

Because even though he knows they – and most importantly, she – will be okay in the end, he knows what they have to endure to get to that point. Because he knows that whatever information he gives her can lead to her being flung off a building.

And so he remains silent.

He sees the tension in every part of her body, waiting for his response. But she doesn't ask again, perhaps expecting him to start spilling everything like he did when he didn't know what he knows now.

He considers staying, but she won't talk to him unless he gives her what she wants. He needs answers, but so does she, and when it comes to her mom's case, he knows she won't let loose for even just a second to figure out what's wrong with him.

And something is definitely wrong with him. He is convinced this isn't a dream, all of this too realistic and absurd to be made up even by his brain, no matter how active of an imagination he has.

But she won't hear him out right now. Won't have the patience to listen to his crazy ramblings, or to lift a corner of her mouth in amusement at his fantasy going wild.

If he stays, she'll pressure him into giving her information he knows will bring her face-to-face with death. Again.

They're better together, but he has to leave her alone right now.

He straightens as he makes up his mind. She told him to leave, and leave he would.

"I think it's best I take your advice."

With that, he swiftly turns on his heel and strides towards the door, exits, and slams it shut behind him.

Castle expects her to rush after him, to drag him back in and squeeze out every last bit of information he has left to offer. To his surprise, the door stays shut.

Once outside, he heads down the familiar path, intending to go to the loft. Maybe being home will help him set things straight.

Suddenly, he catches his reflection in a window as he passes it and pauses.

The guy staring back at him cautiously is certainly Richard Castle. It's his face, his features, his clothes. But he doesn't look like what he expected.

His reflection is a perfect image of him, or better yet, who he used to be, like, what, more than two decades ago? _The way he did when they looking for Smith_ , he reminds himself.

It makes sense, in a way. It makes sense because Beckett looks younger, too. It makes sense that he looks, _feels_ younger if he's reliving a moment from so many years ago. But it only presents him with more questions.

He marches down the street, a plan beginning to form in his mind.

He doesn't need to figure out the mystery of Johanna Beckett's murder this time. This time, he needs to figure out how to keep Kate safe.

Time is against him – she might not chase after him right now, but she is not just going to let him wander off without finding out everything he knows first. Sooner or later she will be kicking down his door, and he won't be able to deny her answers every time, he knows it.

Knows it, because he has already lived this.

There has to be a way to let her in on everything, to reveal everything to her, all while keeping her out of harm's way. Physical pain, that is. The emotional pain this case causes her is one he cannot protect her from.

Kate's life is his priority. He just hopes he can solve the mystery of what happened to him along the way.

* * *

 **A/N** : Thank you for reading. And as always, thank you so much for any kind of feedback you guys have given me. I appreciate it so much, and it truly brightens my day!


	6. Chapter 6

_She rises from her chair, runs her fingers through his hair. "Get some rest. You've been through a lot."_

 _"What if I go away again after I fall asleep?" he manages to get out, even as he notices that she is right, and his body struggles to fight against the strain of taking in so much information at once._

* * *

He slowly drifts back into consciousness. When he opens his eyes, the world is still blurry, but once the hazy outlines start to become more defined shapes and he can see colors again, part of him is surprised to see that the white walls still surround him.

Castle knows he shouldn't be. Last time he entered this world, he was here for several days. It took a revelation, a spontaneous midnight stroll, and a car accident to bring him back, and his return was just as much a coincidence as his arrival here.

Still, some part of him expected to be on Beckett's apartment floor – or outside of her door, because he knows she must want him out; to not have to look at him anymore, the person who betrayed her in the worst way imaginable. He can't imagine she's too keen on having to take care of him right now.

 _But this Kate is_ , he thinks as he sees her enter through the door, a warm smile greeting him, involuntarily making his heart skip a beat.

She approaches, stopping next to his bed.

"You're ready to be discharged," she says while extending an arm and running her hands through his hair, still careful to avoid the bandages and bruises.

"I am?" he questions with a slight hint of disbelief in his voice. Not that he wants to stay, but after his story about the alternate world, he almost expected her to insist he does, just so the doctors could keep an eye on him – and his potential head injuries.

"Yes," she chuckles. "No more boring hospital. We can go home."

 _Home_.

One word, said so casually, and yet it fills him with awe, the idea that he and Kate have a place they can give that name to. It's not her apartment, not his loft, his or her home. It theirs.

A smile spreads across his face. This is what he longs for. A life with Kate Beckett. One that doesn't involve her calling him only when there is a dead body. One where they don't say goodnight and go their separate ways after a solved case or even a celebratory drink or burger.

Now, he won't even have that. Not with the Beckett he knows at least.

The ounce of hope he had after his last visit has been ripped away from him. This world, be it an alternate reality or a dream, serves as a constant and painful reminder of what's been destroyed.

His smile turns into a frown.

"Everything okay?" Her question interrupts his thoughts.

Castle nods slowly.

"We'll go home soon," she continues, not having the slightest clue of the meaning this one simple word holds for him. "I told Lily to stay with a friend for the night; you need rest."

The mention of his daughter – his _other_ daughter – stings too. He's only known her for a few days, has no memory of her being born, her first words or steps, her first day in school. She is practically a stranger, and yet… he's disappointed he won't see her today.

Because if there is a daughter who's half Beckett, half Castle, he already knows he loves her. Wants to know everything about her. After all, being in this world might be his only chance to.

"But why?" he protests immediately. "We could hang out, have a calm family night. Maybe watch a movie."

Kate quirks an eyebrow at him. "Calm?" she chuckles. "Babe, there is no calm family night with you two around. Especially not when movies are involved."

"I'm sure that's not true," he tries, even though he has no idea.

"Babe, you reenact every action scene you see on screen. It started when she was three watching _Lion King_ when you pretended to throw her off the couch just like Mufasa was pushed of the cliff."

"That sounds fun."

She rolls her eyes at him. "If you guys can't even watch a kid's movie while sitting still, how do you plan on getting rest while she's around?"

"Hey! It's not just a kid's movie, it's a devastating story about …."

"Rick," she interrupts, but she's smirking. "Not my point."

He sighs, and she laughs at his defeat. "She'll be back home tomorrow. In the meantime, you're gonna have to deal with just me as the consolation price."

"Sounds like I hit the jackpot," he replies without missing a beat, and even though she quickly lowers her head and her hair falls in front of her face like a curtain, her blushing cheeks don't escape his notice.

"Kate?" he asks, and she lifts her head again. He knows this probably isn't the right time to ask, not when he finally managed to create some normalcy, but he can't help himself. As much as he wants this to be his reality, it's not. And he doesn't understand how it could be. But if he can get answers anywhere, it's gonna be here, and he is going to try his best to get them. "When we get home, can I ask some questions?"

She bites her lip, looks around the room, contemplates it for a moment. "I'm not sure if I can answer them," she tells him honestly, eyes returning to his.

"But you'll try?"

"Of course."

"That's all I need."

They gather his few belongings he has at the hospital, fill out some paperwork, receive doctor's orders. Kate is listening attentively, asks questions whenever something remains unclear. There'll be a checkup appointment soon, he's getting some medication – mostly pain killers, if he hears correctly. He isn't paying much attention, just nods distractedly, hoping it'll move the procedure along quicker.

* * *

The moment they head home is a blessing, and yet so strange.

New York City hasn't changed, not much at least. Everything looks more or less the same, and yet he knows that so much is different.

She drives, because she doesn't trust cab drivers to have the delicate style of driving necessary to prevent his body from aching at every stop, turn, or lane switch. Especially in city traffic.

Her eyes are mostly trained on the road, but he notices her observing him every few seconds. Making sure he's not acting any weirder, he guesses. Or waiting for him to laugh and reveal that he was just pulling a prank. But he has to disappoint her.

He catches sight of his reflection when he shifts in his seat. Kate may only have a few lines on her face, but he's definitely gathered some more. They park outside the building, and when he has trouble getting out of the car as smoothly as he's used to, he's left wondering whether it's because of his accident, or because of his aging body in this world.

They take the elevator up and enter the familiar space of his apartment – despite the changes, from different pictures to furniture upgrades, it still feels like home.

Kate carries his stuff, refused to let him do anything but walk from the car to the couch – if she would able to carry him, Castle is convinced she would have done that too.

She dumps the bag in their room and returns instantly to usher him to the couch.

"Doctor's orders," she quiets his protests and assurances that he is fine – although moving too much does hurt, he's afraid to admit.

She sits down and places his head in her lap, continuing her gently caresses from earlier.

It amazes him. He is aware that it's most likely because she doesn't believe his story, and that – to her – he is the man she married, the one she started a family and life with. Even though she knows he doesn't believe he is _her_ Castle, even though everything about his behavior is off, she still seeks his presence, still doesn't keep her distance. He doesn't mind.

For a while, he just enjoys it in silence. But he can't become too absorbed in this, can't allow to lose sight of his goal to find out how he can make this a reality for him. It seems too unrealistic.

Castle eventually brings himself to talk. "Since we've been married for years, you have to be used to my imaginative side," he tries to ease her in.

"You mean your crazy side?"

He smirks. "Call it whatever you want."

Her smile is tentative, and he can tell that she already suspects where this conversation is heading.

"So… about that other world," he starts, and she sighs. But she doesn't interrupt. "You say I went to a different world before? Or claimed I did?" he corrects himself, when he notices that she wants to jump in. "And that was the case right before we got married?" She nods. "But how soon after that fight was it?"

"Two, maybe two and a half years."

He swallows, taking a moment to process this information. For him, the cases merged. And here, a world seemingly so similar, they were quite far apart – and in the time that passed, so much happened between them.

"When did we start dating?"

She hesitates. "Rick, you know all this."

"Pretend I don't," he pleads. "Please, just… whether you believe me or not, please pretend that I haven't gone through all of this already. If it makes you feel better, if it gives you an explanation, pretend I have a concussion that temporarily made my brain go funny. Just… please tell me."

She purses her lips, considers it for a moment. But Kate can tell he isn't going to let this go, or maybe he just looks so lost and she takes pity on him, and so she relents.

"Alright. We started dating almost immediately after the fight."

He sucks in a breath. "How?" he asks before he can stop himself.

She raises her eyebrows at him.

"It just… it sounds so unlikely. You were furious."

"So were you."

"I… I was? I mean, I was worried about what this would do to us, but…"

"You didn't want to see me throwing my life away. To risk getting killed. Again."

"So… what happened?"

"You told me about Smith. And you left."

Castle frowns. He left? But then he remembers why he made the deal with Smith, how important it was for him to keep her safe, and that that meant keeping her away from investigating her mom's murder. And then he pictures her immediately plummeting down that hole again, making herself the target in a heartbeat, and him having to watch her putting her life on the line and destroying what little insurance of safety she had.

Yeah, he'd be pissed.

"Rick… I know that, right now, you think you're in the wrong world. But it mostly seems like you're just reliving memories. And maybe the accident made you mess up timelines, which is why you think the coal plant case took place the day of that fight. It sounds like you're having flashbacks."

"I want them to be," he murmurs. And he does. He'd love for everything bad to be behind them. What he wouldn't give to have that fight be a thing of the past, to fast forward to a point where they can be with each other. But he knows they're not. "You have no idea how much. We're not in a great place right now."

She looks him straight in the eye. "We're in a great place," she returns confidently. " _This_ ," she says and gestures around the room, "is real. We're real. No concussion, hallucination, or alternate universe can change that. I love you. That's real too."

His heartbeat accelerates at that. "How do I get you to fall in love with me?"

"You already have, Rick. More and more every day."

He slowly shakes his head. "How did you fall in love with me after our fight?"

"I didn't. I already loved you." He just stares at her, and she sighs, realizing he's waiting for her to continue. "I needed time to realize that I did, and that nothing could change that." She chuckles dryly. "Almost falling off a building puts a few things in perspective."

" _What_?!" He knew investigating the murder would put her in danger, already got more than a taste of it the day of Montgomery's funeral. But hearing how close to death she came – _again_ – it panics him, even though he can see her right in front of him, breathing, safe, alive... and the happiest he's ever seen her.

It's her who shakes her head this time. "Rick, you lived through this. We both did. We're past it. You'll remember." And this time, he knows that no prolonged eye contact and no pleading will convince her to continue telling him this story. Not right now at least.

She may have shut his questioning down. She may have assured him that he will eventually remember everything. But he notices the worried look on her face, the crease between her brows deepening.

* * *

Kate gets up, careful not to jostle him too much, and moves to the kitchen to cook their dinner. He wants to follow and help like he did when he was here the first time, but the second he moves to get up, she exclaims 'don't even think about it,' without ever turning around.

They chatter while she busies herself in the kitchen. He doesn't mention the other universe again, not yet. Instead, he asks innocent questions; questions that stop her from eyeing him with suspicion every few seconds or driving him straight back to the hospital for an emergency scan of his head.

He asks about their boys, how they like camp, when she heard from them last. He asks what friend Lily is staying with, what her plans for the day are, when she will be back.

Castle can't see Kate's face from where he's lying, but from her tone of voice, he can tell she's relieved he's more normal now. She gives him an update on their kids, on Alexis next, and tells him that she is planning to visit this weekend.

"Sounds great," he says and smiles. It feels like he hasn't seen his daughter, the one he remembers having, in forever. At the end of a crazy day, she is always a constant in his life, the person he would always come home to. But during his last visit to this world, he didn't see her once. When he was back in his world, he went to Beckett's without dropping by the loft first. And with all this absurdity, it feels good to know that there is at least one person in this world that he knows.

Although she'll be older, a lot, it will be a familiar face, a small part of normalcy in a sea of confusion

Beckett brings their food to the couch and helps him sit up.

He feels like an old man, not just because of his injuries, but because he feels stiff even beyond the bruises. Like his body isn't as agile as it usually is.

They munch on their food in silence, the only sound the clatter of cutlery. Both are absorbed in their own thoughts. Castle thinks he will have to wait for several hours if not at least a day before he can ask any more questions, so it surprises him when she returns to the topic on her own.

Maybe she takes pity on him.

"About earlier," she starts, and he immediately stops eating, gives her his full attention. "I'm not saying I believe in this whole alternate universe thing."

"Of course not."

"But I believe that you do. Whatever the reason. And if it'll make you feel better, I'll play along."

He purses his lips for a moment, contemplates her offer. Castle wants her to believe him, but it wouldn't be Kate Beckett if she weren't skeptical. She is willing to talk. Isn't that all he needs? To figure out how he can make this world his reality, since he still refuses to accept it as out of his reach?

"So," he begins. "About our fight?" He can tell that she is reluctant, but she pushes herself.

"Rick, whether you really are from this universe or not … you figured it out before. Everything between us is and will be great."

"I know a version of you that would say otherwise," he deflects, grimly staring at an interesting spot on the carpet.

"Maybe a younger version. One that didn't have her priorities straight. One that was so blinded by her obsession, she didn't think she was ready to accept the love she was offered yet."

He sighs. "I just don't know how to fix it. Us."

"I didn't either. I didn't think we were ever going to be the same. And we weren't," she adds after a moment, making his stomach sink. "We were better," she continues and moves closer to him, drawing his gaze.

He's still overwhelmed by the love he can see pouring out of her eyes; no sign of the Beckett that carefully guards his emotions around him.

"Seems like the other Castle did well," he remarks, and simultaneously can't believe he is actually really jealous of himself. "Maybe we switched places, and he can fix it for me," he jokes.

Kate let his first comment slide. Her expression didn't change when he spoke of himself as another person, but the moment he utters the next sentence, she frowns at him. "You're willing to let another version of you take care of your problems?" she questions.

Castle shrugs. "Does it count if it is technically the same person?"

"It does," she replies immediately. "It's not the pretty part, but it's part of our story. What's a great love story without obstacles to overcome?"

He chuckles. "Sounds like something I would say."

Kate rolls her eyes. "You did. And you were right. Our obstacles made us stronger. They're part of why we're here. And you're willing to let 'other Castle,'" she air quotes, "live it. All while you're here."

He sulks. "You're saying you don't want me here?"

She shakes her head. "Not what I'm saying, Rick. But I want the Richard Castle I know to be back. And if you really were him from another universe, that wouldn't be the same. I want the Richard Castle that shares our love story, the one who remembers our lives, our family."

Her words feel like a slap across the face. This world offered him so much solace. It was a place where he knew Kate Beckett wanted him, loved him. But now he's forced to realize that Kate, who loves Richard Castle, doesn't love him. Even the woman married to Richard Castle doesn't want _him_.

He grits his teeth, tries to gain control over the moisture that gathers in his eyes. With her watching him like a hawk, she notices. And, even if she doesn't love him, she still loves Richard Castle, and so she gently brushes a thumb across his cheek and wipes away a tear that escaped.

"You're married to me," he says on a husk. "If you don't want me, how could a version of you that is currently furious with me?"

She huffs. "Missing the point. As I said, if this alternate universe were real, I would be married to another version of you. Someone who shares the same name, who looks and talks like you. But it wouldn't be my husband. Is it so bad to say that I'd want that person?" she explains. "Tell me, honestly, believing what you believe, would you want to stay here with me?"

What a ridiculous question. Of course he does. He yearns for a future where he can come home to her. A future where they end their days cuddled up on the couch. Family dinners whenever their schedules allowed for it. How could he not want to stay here? Castle rushes to confirm.

And then he stops himself.

Because she is right. They had, _have_ , a story. One he doesn't know. He didn't get to experience every part of their love story up until this point. He missed out on their first real kiss. He missed their first official first date, their first fight as a couple, all the Christmases, holidays, birthdays, their wedding. He missed their children's births. Everything of their life up until now. And he would never have a chance to see it all happen with his own eyes.

He opened his mouth to answer. He shuts it again.

Castle wants their experience, wants to grow together, to witness their relationship blossom. And he doesn't want to miss a single thing.

He isn't sure how long he is silent for, but Kate seems to have read his thoughts. "I'm not saying I believe in your alternate world," she reminds him. "I still think the crash has something to do with it, and I'm really considering going to another hospital to confirm that you really don't have any head injuries and suffer from temporary amnesia… but let me tell you something about the Castle _I_ know.

"The Castle I fell and am in love with doesn't give up on us, never has. He is always there for me, he stands his ground against me – we may have butted heads more than once, but in the end, we both realized what's important. It may have taken some time, for both of us. But it was so worth it. You were right, what's a great love story without obstacles to overcome?" She chuckles. "Maybe we had a few more than necessary. But we made it. We kept fighting."

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. _Keep fighting_. He did. For so long. He feels like he can't do it anymore.

"I don't know if I still have the energy for that. I can't keep fighting by myself," he admits on a whisper.

"It's why we fight together," she informs him and smiles.

And somehow, hearing it fills him with renewed determination, ignites a spark he thought was lost. If he makes his way back, he won't stop until they're a team again. He'll fight to make all those memories he misses in this world.

* * *

 **A/N** : I've tried and will continue trying to update this story semi-regularly (meaning once a week… ish), but please know that it can sometimes take longer (like this update) – I don't plan to abandon this story, but I have a busy life, and I will be starting an internship quite soon. Thanks for understanding, hope you enjoyed (: As always, thank you for reading. Also, thank you so much for all your kind words or constructive criticism that help me figure out what's good about this story and what needs clarification. And since I can't thank guest reviewers in person, this is your personal thank you.


	7. Chapter 7

_He doesn't need to figure out the mystery of Johanna Beckett's murder this time. This time, he needs to figure out how to keep Kate safe._

 _There has to be a way to let her in on everything, to reveal everything to her, all while keeping her out of harm's way. Physical pain, that is. The emotional pain this case causes her is one he cannot protect her from._

 _Kate's life is his priority. He just hopes he can solve the mystery of what happened to him along the way._

* * *

At first, he plans on going home, to his loft. But spontaneously, he decides on a detour to the 12th. Maybe Ryan and Esposito can shed some light on what's going on. He hopes they still work there, and that not everything in this universe has changed.

They're his brothers, best friends, uncles to his kids. But here… who's to say that they won't be angry with him too? For hindering Kate from solving the case that has haunted her for years. But he has to take his chances.

Rick still isn't one hundred percent sure why he is here – or what 'here' even is exactly. And while saving Kate is his priority, knowing more about the circumstances and this place might be helpful in this self-declared quest. His head is spinning, coming up with ideas and tossing them aside as they become crazier by the second. His most logical solution is time travel, and maybe it's his years and years of dating Kate Beckett and being confronted with her skepticism, but he's not entirely convinced by it.

He's allowed into the precinct without issue, and he makes his way up with people nodding to him in the elevator and before he steps into the bullpen.

"Hey, Castle," Ryan greets as soon as he spots him. There is no animosity, so he assumes they don't know about their fight yet.

"What brings you back?" Esposito asks.

"Yeah, the case is closed. It's late." He glances down at his watch, and pulls a face. "Or super early, however you wanna see it. We left, but murderers apparently don't care that we were looking forward to a quiet evening." Ryan shrugs.

"A new case?" Castle inquires excitedly, trying to divert their attention from their original question. "If you caught a new case, why didn't you guys give me a call?"

Ryan looks down on the floor. "We… uh… noticed that you and Beckett kind of stayed close to each other – like, more than usual – after the last case and we… didn't want to… disturb," he gets out awkwardly.

Esposito just grins at him unashamedly. How disappointed they will be once they find out that definitely nothing of whatever they're imagining happened.

"I suppose now that you're already here, we can call Beckett to let her know," Ryan finishes.

He is trying to think of ways to discover what happened to him, what this world is, but he knows there is no way he can do that without asking weird questions – weirder than usual that is. He doesn't realize he stands there silently, eyes staring into the distance, for longer than usual. Ryan pulls him out of his daze.

"You alright, Castle?" he asks, and the concern in his eyes is actually touching.

"Yeah, fine, why wouldn't I be?" He adds a reassuring smile for good measure.

"I don't know. Been a long day. With the explosion and everything, you had a rough day."

"Explosion?" he says without thinking and immediately regrets it. If he witnessed one, that's probably something he should remember.

Esposito sits up. "Yeah, man. At the coal plant. When you went to look for the briefcase and that weird artifact that was in it."

The lack of recognition on Castle's face has them both inching closer, eyes trained on his head. He's still trying to put the pieces together. _Coal plant? Artifact?_

"Bro, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, maybe you hit your head a little too hard," Ryan suggests.

"Nah, guys, I'm fine," he waves it off. Coal plant, artifact… it's awfully familiar. That was when… but how?

Suddenly, everything falls together; and yet, it confuses him more. He knows exactly what case they're referring to. He traveled to another universe then too. He told Kate about it years ago, but much like Ryan and Esposito are doing now, she joked that he'd probably hit his head when he went down. After all, he was unconscious when she found him.

But that was ages ago, and the timeline is wrong. He recognizes the case, the artifact… but he doesn't have it, and if his fight with Kate in this universe is any indication, they're not supposed to catch this case until years later. They weren't even supposed to have this fight until later.

He doesn't care what anyone says about him hitting his head too hard, he can't possibly make this up, not even in one of his dreams. Alternate universe is the best explanation he gets, and so he takes it.

"Castle?"

"You know what, I'm… some fresh air might probably be a good idea."

"Do you need someone to drive you home?" Ryan asks.

Castle shakes his head. "Nah, you guys have a murder to solve, and I don't wanna inconvenience anyone else. I'll see you later," he says and turns around to leave.

As he moves over to the elevator, he hears Esposito calling Beckett, informing her of the murder that took place. He hears him recite the address he scribbled down on a notepad and freezes.

He recognizes it. Of all the crime scenes he visited, this is one he won't forget.

It's where the victim was found that led them to Maddox.

His plan to come up with a strategy to rescue Kate falls apart before his eyes. Not that he had a clear plan to begin with. But he's already out of time. He knows they'll find out about Maddox quickly. And whether that's today or tomorrow, he won't be able to figure out how to avoid it crashing down on them, her.

Rick still has to try. Every minute counts.

He hails a cab to take him to the loft. He isn't sure what good it's going to do, but he can't stay at the precinct. Not that Kate would let him once she arrives. He can't drive to the building where they located Maddox by himself. And he doesn't know where Maddox is right now. Not that he'd stand a chance against the guy, and him being dead certainly won't help anyone.

Castle is still surprised Kate didn't even try to stop him from leaving without giving up everything he knows. He's aware she doesn't want to see him right now, but since she knows that he has intel to share, he expected her relentlessly pursuing it, him. But as long as she isn't around, he has time to work for himself.

He bursts through the front door. The first bit of sun is already visible, illuminating the loft the tiniest bit. He drops his jacket by the door and heads straight for his office. Pulls up Johanna Beckett's murder board, focusing on Kate's section. At least he doesn't have to do that. _Good job, other Castle._ He stops in his tracks. Other Castle. He didn't have the artifact, but the Castle in this world did. Maybe, he ended up in another universe too. And that's when they switched.

Perhaps he can write out the timeline - but it's useless, considering everything is a little different here. Perhaps he should write down everything he remembers about Maddox and this case. Provide them with information for it and advise them on which steps to take that allow them to take down Maddox straight away.

Only he'd be questioned on how he would know all this, and there is no logical way to justify it.

And if he does it through an anonymous tip line, with a case involving so many twists and turns, faceless and nameless people, he's not sure the information would be trusted.

He franticly types, scribbles, adds and erases ideas on how to go about this. He barely notices the sun has risen, that it's high up in the sky by now.

"Hey, Dad," he hears by the door and jumps. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Alexis chuckles.

He thinks he sees a ghost. A wonderful, beautiful ghost.

Alexis will always be his little girl, and with Lily and the boys, the loft is rarely void of their children, but it just feels like it's been _so_ long since Alexis has called this her home. She didn't move out straight away, but when she told him she'd found a place, he reluctantly came to understand.

But he misses having her around all the time, still hasn't gotten entirely used to it after all these years. They don't bump into each other at night anymore, when both wander around the living room or kitchen because they can't sleep. They still see each other regularly, despite both of their lives being busy, but it's not the same as it once was.

He looks at his daughter, still beautiful at whatever age, but she is just so young. Alexis is all grown up, and even though she will always be his little girl, he didn't expect to see her like this again in anything but pictures.

Rick pulls himself together before he has to explain why he is getting emotional because of her presence.

"I didn't expect you to be back," she states and moves into the room.

He raises his eyebrows. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You texted me, said you probably weren't gonna be home before lunch."

"Oh. Change of plans?" he tries and she smiles.

He instinctively reaches into his pocket, and notices his phone is missing. He gets up and steps around her, back to the jacket he dropped by the entrance. The pockets are empty as well.

"What is it?"

"My phone, it's gone," he explains.

"You probably just misplaced it. Maybe at the precinct?" Alexis suggests.

"Maybe," he mumbles, then shrugs. It's not important right now. He tells himself he could go back for it later, once he comes up with a plan. Although he hasn't made any progress in the past hours. He gets back to it.

* * *

Hours later, miles away, his phone buzzes. Beckett moves over to the table she placed it on.

She spent all day working the new case, hours flying by. But time stood still when they found out it wasn't like any murder. She went home after a while, considering her apartment a working space away from the watchful eyes of Gates. To Gates, this is just a regular murder. Once she finds out its connection to her, she'll be off the case in seconds. She can't risk that.

Of course she doesn't get rest. How could she? She is so close this time, so, so close. She's not gonna let the sniper get away this time. She's tired of going outside and wondering whether today is the day she'll be shot again, fatally this time. Before he can find her, she'll find him.

The phone must have fallen out of his pocket when he fainted. She noticed it right after he left, made her before she could run out and drag him back inside. Knowing Castle and how much he played with his phone, he'd notice it missing sooner or later. And then he'd come back of his own volition.

The call from Espo and the murder they had to solve served as a distraction for a while – and then brought her right back. A break-in at Montgomery's. Files, of all things. Not jewelry, or other valuables. Files.

One guy already dead. And then Ryan and Esposito dropped that bomb on her.

 _"_ _Beckett, it was your shooting."_

She's been up for hours, but she can't sleep, doesn't try to. Her life is on the line. Again.

His phone keeps buzzing, and she thinks it might be Alexis or Martha calling to help him locate his phone. But when her eyes fall on the screen, she sees the caller ID is hidden.

She shouldn't, she really shouldn't, but curiosity gets the better of her. With the sheer number of people Castle knows and practically has on speed dial, the unknown caller surprises her. Maybe it's instinct, or maybe it's just her putting two and two together. The case related to her shooting, Castle telling her about Smith… it can't be a coincide he receives an anonymous call.

Beckett picks up.

"Castle's phone?" she tries, unable to hide the slight tremble in her voice.

At first, all she hears his breathing.

"Hello?"

"You're not supposed to know about this."

"Know what? What the hell is going on?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you."

This might be her only chance to talk to this guy. She takes a breath to steady herself. "Are you Mr. Smith?"

A short pause. "You've heard of me?"

"Recently," she states dryly.

"Then you understand why you can't continue this investigation."

"I can't… what?!" she exclaims, a stark contrast to the calm voice on the other end of the line.

She's surprised he doesn't just hang up. Even more surprised he actually keeps talking without being prompted. "Explaining isn't in my interest, nor is it my place to."

"I know you asked Castle to keep me from investigating my mom's murder," she interrupts. "And I don't care. You owe me some answers."

"I can't give you all the answers you seek. Possibly none," he states matter-of-factly.

It's a beginning. "Why were files stolen from Montgomery's place?"

"To make sure there was no evidence, nothing incriminating."

"Evidence for what?" she pushes. "Incriminating for whom?"

Smith ignores her follow-up questions. "You need to drop your investigation."

She actually laughs, loud and sarcastically. "Now that I know the sniper who shot me is involved? No chance in hell."

"Then we have a problem. If you don't stop, they _will_ come after you. I can't control the situation that way."

"It's not your situation to control," she snaps.

"Then I'm afraid I can no longer help you. Good luck." It sounds genuine. And then he hangs up. There goes her chance of getting more information.

Beckett almost throws the phone across the room. This was probably the only opportunity to talk to the guy.

She wonders if he would have told Castle more if he were here. But no, Castle has spoken to him before, and never found out more. Maybe he didn't try. Maybe today would be different. If he'd just come back for his phone. _And for you_ , a voice in her head whispers, but she ignores it.

Perhaps she's just trying to come up with excuses for him to return. Because, maybe, she needs him right now.

She pushes the thought aside, buries herself in the case, the leads, the dead ends. When the sun rises and a new day begins, she still hasn't slept. She returns to the precinct.

* * *

Castle is clueless. He figured this would be easier knowing what he does. He expected keeping her out of harm's way would be a walk in the park, because this time, he has all the information. He just needs to find a way to get it to the right people at the right time. But even then, he knows he won't be able to keep her from going after everyone herself. She wouldn't be out of harm's way, she'd be on the front line.

She would never let anyone but herself bring her mom's murderer and those helping to cover it up to justice.

He briefly considered going to the precinct and just grabbing the elephants. But with her – and most likely him – being watched every step of the way, he doesn't want to risk having this crucial piece of evidence found by the wrong person.

There has to be a way, but every idea he has, has a potentially deadly outcome. He abandons them all. Even if he could manage to hide all remaining evidence, all leads left to discover, he can't do it without depriving Kate of a milestone in solving the case that matters most. He can't hurt her like that.

He got barely any sleep this previous night, knowing that the clock is ticking. A quick nap is all he allowed himself. His eyelids are heavy, and he can't focus. But sleep is out of the question now, he lost too much time already, too many hours just oacing through the loft, looking at the same useless notes over and over again. It's the next day and he doesn't know where they are in the investigation.

The adrenalin keeps him awake, the sun pouring through the windows helps.

He looks up when Alexis enters. "Dad, Ryan is on the phone. He couldn't reach you on yours, I told him you misplaced it." She hands him her cell. His heart is beating out of his chest. If Ryan thinks reaching him is so important he tries calling Alexis, it must be urgent.

"She's spiraling," is what he tells him the second Castle takes the phone. He doesn't need to explain, Castle knows exactly what happened, but Ryan doesn't know, and so he brings him up to speed. Which is when Rick realizes she's at least a day ahead of schedule. He doesn't have any clue as to how she did it, but somehow, she put everything together faster. A lot faster. At this rate, she'll find Maddox before lunch.

"I don't know what to do," he hears Ryan say, sounding so desperate. "She won't tell Gates what we found, and Esposito agrees with her decision. I want what's best for her, she needs to slow down, and I can't come up with a way to slow her down. Except you."

"Me?"

"She said you're off the team, but you're the only one I can think of that could make her stop. You've done it before," Ryan reminds him, referring to their investigation during which he made the deal with Smith.

"Not when she had a lead like this," Castle huffs.

"Please, try. This all feels wrong. She wants to head out, to go after the guy with no reinforcement. She's gonna get herself killed."

Ryan almost begging him to do something, to keep her from getting hurt, makes him appreciate the guy more than he already did.

He rubs his forehead and sighs. "I'll try. Is she still at the precinct? Try and keep her there until I get there," he instructs after Ryan confirms.

He rushes over to the door, puts on his shoes as quickly as possible. Alexis looks at him questioningly. "Do you mind if I keep this while I'm out?" he asks and waves her phone around. Under normal circumstances, she would have protested, complained about privacy or reminded him that he wouldn't be able to reach her if she went out. But something in his gaze must tell her it's important. And so all she does is nod, calling "Be careful" after him as he leaves.

Rick sets a record for making it to the precinct. He tipped the driver extra for violating a few traffic rules, and it paid off. Just as he gets out of the cab, he spots her leaving the precinct, heading to her car with Esposito at her side. Her stride is determined.

"Beckett!" he calls, but she doesn't turn around. "Kate!" he practically shouts, drawing the attention of several passengers, but he doesn't care, because she stops and turns towards him. He catches up with them, but when he stands in front of her, he has to catch his breath.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he wheezes.

For a moment, he actually thinks she'll decline. After their fight, it wouldn't come as a shock. But she nods, and he drags her out of the way before she can reconsider.

He knows trying to talk some sense into her won't work, not right now; he realizes it's hopeless before he even opens his mouth. But it's the only thing he has left to try. His final attempt to stop her.

"Please don't do this."

"Do what? Catch the guy who tried to kill me?"

He shakes his head. "Do it the right way, please."

"And what is the right way, exactly?" she asks, crossing her arms.

"Use reinforcements. Tell Gates. Don't go in there alone," he pleads.

"Not alone. I have Esposito with me."

"That's not what I mean. Please," he begs. "There has to be another way. We can figure it out. As a team. Listen to me, Kate."

"Listen to you? Why should I listen to you? How am I even supposed to trust anything you say?"

Hearing those words a second time doesn't hurt any less. It's like a slap across the face, a punch to the gut, a dagger in his heart. He knows this isn't what his Kate would say, not anymore. But the person in front of him sounds like his Kate, looks like Kate, _is_ Kate Beckett – but not the one he can just take in his arms and apologize to. Not the Kate who will forgive him with a simple kiss. That's not how things works here.

"Because of everything we've been through together!" he gets out, remembering their fight from all those years ago. "I'm more than a partner. And I think you are the most remarkable, maddening, challenging … frustrating person I have ever met. And I love you, Kate, and if that means anything to you, if you care about me at all, just don't do this."

His speech didn't work all those years ago, it doesn't work now.

"Love can't fix everything," she whispers, looking down. She sounds sad, so sad, but she seems to soften and he clings onto that. Then her voice gets stronger, and if he believed for even just a second that she'd waver, it is clear now that she won't. "Castle, this is my life. Mine. You don't get to decide."

"I wish things hadn't gone this way," he admits. He should have been able to avoid all this. To find a better way.

She's trying to hide it, but he can spot the regret on her face. "You're the one always believing in fate. Maybe this wasn't meant to be." She straightens and looks at him. "Everything happens for a reason, right," she says dryly, but it strikes a chord.

He realizes he can't shield Kate from herself and all the bad in the world. He never could and he never will be able to. All he can do is be by her side to help, to support. They are a team. He can balance her, calm her down, comfort her. But he will never be able to stop her from doing something she set her mind to. And this is one of those moments.

He doesn't stop her when she strides back to the car where Esposito waited impatiently. She gives him a curt nod, gets into the car, and the two drive off.

So he does the hardest thing he's ever had to do: he walks away from Kate one more time, knowing exactly what's going to happen.

Whatever twisted reality this universe is giving him, he can't bring himself to interfere. He can't tamper with something as big as this, not knowing what disastrous results he could cause, not knowing if there is even a way he could have acted that would have minimized the damage at all.

He feels helpless, but this is how it has to be.

Castle calls Ryan, exchanges a few words with him, receiving the assurance and giving him the strength to leave right now. He trusts Ryan to take care of it, like he did once before. If he can't change anything, he can at least make sure it goes down exactly how it did last time.

He still has to use every ounce of his willpower to prevent himself from hailing a cab and going straight after her, being the one who catches her this time, because what if they don't get to her in time? Things in this world may be more or less the same, but they're not _exactly_ the same and it worries him. The timing is different. What if this one detail changes everything? What if the one thing that's different about this case is that she doesn't make it this time? What if this universe is here to show him what he could have missed out on?

Except that doesn't make any sense either. He doesn't need to know what he has, he cherishes every moment with Kate. He doesn't need to be here. His what ifs were answered years ago, there are no more he needs answers to. At least there weren't, until he came here. And now he worries about this Kate. He loves her unconditionally in whatever universe they're in.

With all the self control he has, he walks away from the precinct. And then he runs.

He wants nothing more than to be back in his old life. With the love of his life. In the comfort of their home. He wonders if other Castle gets to enjoy it right now. His body may be young, but the few days he spent here make him feel older than he's ever felt before; he's tired. They fought hard enough for their happy ending already. He deserves to experience it.

She once asked him if he would travel back in time if he could. Without needing to think about it, he told her he'd only do it to fall in love with her all over again. He meant it.

But he also doesn't want to live through all the hardships once more, the fights, the separation, the many moments where they feared for each other's lives. Right now, he wants to be back.

Rick doesn't know how long it takes him, but he makes it to the loft, sweating and panting. He must have looked ridiculous running through the streets like a maniac dressed in plain jeans and a simple shirt. Not exactly the perfect attire for running through the city.

Exhaustions begins to overwhelm him. The hours being awake, trying to find a solution that wasn't there to begin with, trying to wrap his brain around everything going on, his worry for her... it all runs him ragged.

What he wouldn't give to be back to living his real life, where he can step into her embrace and have everything be okay in an instant. Where he can kiss his daughters, both of them, on the head and tell them he is proud to be their dad. Where he can play with their boys and take fun trips to the museum. Where they're a family.

As soon as he makes it through the door, he drops onto the couch, unable to make it any further. He closes his eyes. "Please let everything be okay," he whispers, not sure if he is referring to Kate in this universe, or to his own situation.

Maybe a bit of both.

* * *

 **A/N** : Two more chapters to come, and then this story should be all wrapped up. Thanks for your support this far, 200 follows and over 100 reviews, wow! Feedback is appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

_"_ _I don't know if I still have the energy for that. I can't keep fighting by myself," he admits on a whisper._

 _"_ _It's why we fight together," she informs him and smiles._

 _And somehow, hearing it fills him with determination. If he makes his way back, he won't stop until they're a team again. He'll fight to make all those memories he misses in this world._

* * *

He doesn't know how she did it. Again. She managed to reignite a spark of hope he definitely thought lost. It also makes him restless.

Much to Kate's dismay, who is trying to keep him still. After all, the only reason he could be discharged from the hospital is that Kate promised to have him rest until he makes a full recovery.

But how could he be still now that he's filled with determination again? Mentally, he's full of energy. Physically, however, his body isn't quite able to keep up. Maybe being hit by a vehicle has that sort of effect.

He paces through the apartment, from the kitchen, to the office, back into the living room, until Kate eventually catches him and resolutely places him back on the couch, threatening to tie him to the bed next if he tries to escape again. She responds to Castle's flirtatious look with an eyeroll, turning away quickly – but he catches the grin on her lips nonetheless.

The day progresses and he loves how easy it is to be with her; he loves how carefree she can be around him, how relieving it is to exchange jokes and laughter instead of biting words. He hates to destroy it. But he has one last burning question on his mind, and if he doesn't try asking, it will haunt him for the rest of her life.

She just sat down next to him, exhausted after running errands and rushing through the loft to take care of him all day, and he feels guilty for ruining the relaxed mood, for taking away her down time. And for tearing up old wounds so heartlessly.

"What happened with your mom's case?" he asks and holds his breath.

The hurt immediately flares up in her eyes, memories of times long past flashing by. He can tell he might have pushed too far, regrets ever bringing up the subject… but she takes a breath to steady herself and regains her composure.

"We solved it," she states plainly.

Castle's head shoots up. He looks at her in shock, or disbelief – he isn't really sure.

"How?" he croaks.

He's desperate and excited. If he can give Beckett the answers she seeks, he can save her so much time. And, most importantly, more heartache. He's so close to help bring her closure.

"You know I don't believe in your alternate universe story," she repeats like a mantra, and at this point, it sounds like she is trying to remind herself as much as him. "But if I did, then I don't think I should tell you."

"But you don't believe it, so go ahead," he tries to tease, but his voice is too tense, too eager.

"I don't," she defends. "But think about how upset you'll be when you get back your memories and find out your wife broke one of the most important rules of time traveling. Or universe hopping. Wouldn't it mess with the flow if I told you something you weren't supposed to find out until later?"

"You don't sound like Kate Beckett anymore," he remarks playfully.

"You rubbed off on me," she laughs and lightly bumps against his shoulder before straightening again. "Plus, that crazy self-proclaimed time traveler we once met gave me some food for thought."

"We met a time traveler?!"

Kate laughs at the childish excitement in his eyes. "He was a crazy person." She sighs, returning to his original question. "It was difficult, but we found everyone involved, every single person responsible. And that's all you need to know until you remember yourself."

She gets up and moves to the kitchen, putting a stop to their conversation.

During this entire stay here, she never stopped treating him like her husband. She showed him the same affection, the same love and attention. But over time, something has changed just the slightest bit, although he can't quite describe what exactly.

She always makes sure to let him know she doesn't believe in alternate universes, but the questions he is asking have definitely given her a pause. The way she talks about their past is cautious. Giving him information without revealing too much. Giving advice without referring to specifics. And if this weren't Kate Beckett, he'd almost assume she believes more of his story than she is letting on. Not that she would ever admit to it.

He's still surprised how quickly they return to normal banter, how quickly they recover from the tension he created earlier. Since she refuses to let him move, he insists on playing scrabble so he can at least exercise his brain. But she beats him, and he decides he's done with any form of exercise.

She snickers as he pouts. Though it's kind of hard to do that when the sound of her laughter inadvertently brings a smile to his face.

Whenever Kate briefly leaves the room, he pulls out his phone, trying to figure out how he can go back without the artifact, but the search comes back empty.

At one point, Castle hears her calling Lily and telling her that a little more rest for him would be great. Apparently, she agrees, because Kate ends the call with a 'see you tomorrow.'

No amount of googling, or brainstorming, or intensely squeezing his eyes shut in hopes of magically appearing back home do the trick. He throws his phone away from him. Useless piece of crap.

And after some time, he decides once more to ask the person he's turned to for advice since he came here.

Castle waits until she returned to his side once again. "How did I come back the first time?"

Her brow furrows. "What?"

"You said I talked about an alternate universe before," he elaborates. "How did I come back?"

"You never left," she reminds him.

"Alright, fine. But how did I claim I got back?"

She shrugs. "You were shot."

He swallows hard. It's not exactly the option he'd choose. Though admittedly, a near-death experience worked just fine the last time too.

"I'm not gonna shoot you," she says sharply, reading his mind, and he lifts his hands in surrender. Not that he had actually considered it. Not seriously at least. She readjusts on the couch, shifts in a way that allows her to cuddle with him without jostling him too much.

"I guess you had an answer to your 'what if'," she adds after a while. When he gives her a quizzical look, she explains. "You wondered what life would have been like if we'd never met. Turns out, it would have been awful for the both of us. I guess it showed you that you really wanted to be with me, and that you were good for me too."

A smile claims his face. Lying here, snuggling in their loft, it's so easy to believe.

"So do you have an answer to the 'what ifs' you asked yourself before you got here?" she inquires, and he raises his brows. "Hypothetically," she's quick to add.

Castle purses his lips and ponders it for a moment. He shrugs. "Not sure," he mutters. He isn't. He still doesn't have all the answers, and every answer he got so far only led to another question. But does he truly need to know more than that Kate and he can work everything out?

When they go to bed that night, he thinks it over.

He doesn't want to stay. As wonderful as it is to live a life with Beckett that isn't disrupted by jealousy, uncertainty, or anger, it's clear to him that he doesn't want it without being there every step of the way. Being here was great, it showed him the possibilities, but this isn't his reality to live.

Not yet.

In his reality, they are broken. But if this world taught him anything, it's that they can have the worst fights and continue to be amazing. Didn't Kate herself assure him that they'd overcome all obstacles? Isn't this life, their kids, perfect proof that nothing has to be done differently? Hasn't it shown him that they will ultimately come together, despite what once put a rift between them?

He spent the past four years learning her story, studying it. And suddenly, she became part of his. Their stories merged. Right now, they're in the chapter of conflict. But he can't wait to turn the page to see where their story takes them next.

Castle has always disapproved of skipping ahead to the ending. He doesn't want to make this the exception.

All of his what ifs have become irrelevant. All he really wants is to be with her. To reach a point where they are on the same page.

He still wishes he could see a little more of this world; see how Alexis is doing these days, assure himself that she will be okay and have the amazing life he wants her to have; he regrets not seeing Lily again, and never even having a chance to meet their boys.

But that's for another time. For the future. Their future.

Kate is right. He shouldn't just skip to the happy end.

Tears well up, and he fights hard to hold in a sob threatening to escape. He doesn't want to accidentally wake Kate who is sleeping so peacefully next to him.

He is going to miss this, but he misses his old life too. And what counts right now is that he makes it back to it.

Sleep slowly lures him in, and he turns and cradles into Kate's side. Hopefully not for the last time.

Only next time, he hopes it'll be his Kate.

* * *

He turns further and scoots just a bit more to the side, because he wants to be as close to her as he can possibly get.

He almost falls off the couch.

Right before he tumbles over, Castle manages to catch himself and shift his weight, keeping him from faceplanting to the ground.

He frowns. Disoriented, he looks around. He doesn't remember falling asleep on the couch. He was definitely in bed.

In his lifetime, he definitely woke up in plenty of places he didn't remember falling asleep in - whether alcohol or a long night of writing was responsible. But he recalls this time. Couldn't possibly forget, because Kate was next him, and that memory is burned into his mind.

Then it hits him. The couch is different. And after spending endless hours on it while resting, he could definitely tell the difference. This is his couch, the old one.

He's back.

Adrenaline pumps through his system.

Beckett, he thinks. He doesn't know how much time he's missed, but he has to get to her, before she almost falls off a building like Kate said she did. He has to prevent at least that.

He sees a phone lying on the floor. Alexis's. He reaches for it nonetheless. No time to waste.

Once he unlocks it, he sees the text from Ryan. He doesn't know why Alexis would have a text from Ryan, but as he scrolls through the history, he realizes he must have used it.

No, not him. The other Castle. He really had been here.

 _We're going after Beckett and Espo right now._

He doesn't know who 'we' is, or why Ryan is chasing after the two exactly, but he knows it can't be good. Maybe he's already too late.

"Dammit, Castle," he curses, and means both him and the other version of him. He wants to be there for their story, wouldn't want his lookalike to take care of his business here and have him miss out, but he didn't expect him leaving Kate to die.

He glances at the time stamp of the text. It's from hours ago, and the lack of updates since then worries him. He's trying to piece together what happened during his absence, but all the call log and texts with Ryan show him is that she is in trouble and that Ryan is trying to do all that he can.

Castle just hopes it's enough.

But he has to trust in other Castle doing the right thing. He's been through this before. And yet somehow managed to keep himself from running after her. And if he could do that, if the person who lived it could do it, he had to trust that that was what had do be done.

And if this other Castle and he have anything in common, it's their love for Kate Beckett. He would only walk away if he knew it was the best choice.

For a while, he just remains on the couch, unsure of what to do next. Waiting is agony. But even though his body is healed in this universe, the regained physical strength doesn't do him any good. If anything, it makes him more agitated. He's physically capable, and yet feels absolutely powerless.

He assumes her place will be empty, so he decides against going there. He considers heading to the precinct, but he doesn't know what is going on, and he thinks it might be best to stay away and not let Gates catch sight of him. He isn't eager to get into another argument.

With an unexpected amount of energy, he swings off the couch, nearly toppling over. He's gotten so used to moving slowly, cautiously, and with limited mobility, he misjudged his own agility.

It's that energy that makes him pace through the living room, a continuous walk through the open space that he uses to contemplate his options - all leading to the same useless conclusion: he doesn't know what to do.

He rubs a hand against his forehead, pinches the bridge of his nose, hoping that gestures of thinking will actually help him form a clear thought.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs makes him look up, straight into his daughter's eyes. And it's his Alexis, his young and beautiful daughter. He's so relieved he doesn't see an older version, that he doesn't even know what she would look like older. He skillfully managed to not gaze upon the pictures hung across the loft in the other world, and he's grateful for it.

Alexis is already growing up too fast. Seeing her as a fully grown adult way before it's supposed to happened would have truly made it feel like time was just slipping through his fingers. And he still has so much to do with the time he knows he has now.

She's descending the steps with a stack of paper clutched in her hands and a bag slung across her shoulder.

"What's this?" he motions to the printed pages in her arms.

"Graduation speeches," she sighs, and hops down the final step. "I have to come up with a draft; the speech is in two weeks."

"That looks more like your inauguration speech than a graduation speech."

She chuckles and winks. "Give me a couple of years, and maybe I'll draft that too."

"So where are you headed?" he inquires.

"Paige's. I'm going over there to discuss some ideas. It'll probably take long, so I'll spend the night. Since you have my phone, just call me on her cell if you need to reach me." She pauses. "If that's alright with you?"

"Yeah, sure, have a great time." He nods in affirmation. He loves Alexis, loves having her around, but if he needs to suddenly leave to save Beckett from a contract killer, it's probably best if she's not around to worry.

He zones out, staring at a wall, while his thoughts replay all the scenarios he imagines could have happened. He doesn't notice Alexis moving to the front door, opening it, nor does he realize that she halts there to observe him.

"Are you okay?" she asks and narrows her eyes at him. "You seem distracted."

Castle jumped when she interrupted his thoughts, but he quickly neutralizes his expression and puts on a reassuring smile. "Yeah, fine," he replies, but it's a little too high-pitched and the opposite of convincing.

Alexis tilts her head, and he can already tell she's debating staying home after all. He quickly shuffles over to the door and practically pushes her through, all the while assuring her that he is totally okay, and she leaves – albeit reluctantly.

He exhales, takes several more deep breaths to calm himself down. Whatever happened, whatever is still going on out there, the other Castle thought it was best to come here and … sleep on the couch? Do nothing. The guy who has the answers he was trying to get wasn't out there on a rescue mission. He came here. So here he'd stay.

Until…. What?

He hates the uncertainty, not knowing what is going on. He hates feeling like it's all out of his control.

He steps into his office and groans. There is always stuff lying around, but the person who'd used it before him had made a downright mess. There are several pages of notes; scribbles, messy handwriting covering the once white pages.

 _His_ handwriting. Right.

Rick falls onto his chair, gathers the sheets – crumbled, torn, and intact ones alike – and deciphers the writing as good as he can. None of it makes any sense to him.

Elephants, Bracken, Maddox… none of the words give him an explanation. He skips through the rest. Some stuff jumps out at him. Vulcan Simmons, that's a name he recognizes. Montgomery, Raglan, it's all familiar to him.

Suddenly, it dawns on him. The notes, as incoherent and messy as they are, are piecing together Johanna Beckett's murder and everyone involved. The smudged black ink contains the solution to who is trying to kill Beckett now and why.

He leans in closer, now studying the notes with much more attention. He's been given the key to putting a stop to all of this, and he doesn't know how to use it.

But he's not going to give up.

Afternoon turns into evening, evening into night. He only looks up from his desk to turn on the lamp.

At one point, he grabbed the phone and texted Ryan, but he still hasn't received a reply, and all of his calls have gone unanswered.

So he returned to his desk, buried himself in the puzzle. He's determined to make every bit fit and get the whole picture, but it feels like the puzzle has 3000 pieces, and he can't find the ones with matching colors.

When there's a knock at the door, he startles.

He quickly shoves the notes into one of his drawers, the secret one. This is information that absolutely cannot fall into the wrong hands. And after studying conspiracy notes for hours, he is almost convinced whoever is outside that door is here to take care of them. And him.

Castle grabs an umbrella from the closet by the door. He is quite sure it won't do too much damage, but he's hoping he'll get a chance to hit the guy over the head with it and buy him some time to get away. He makes a mental note to buy a baseball bat if he survives this.

He takes a few breaths, attempts to slow down his heart beat, and when he realizes that it's never going to happen, he just yanks open to door and moves his arm back to prepare his hit when he freezes.

It's not a guy.

Standing in front of him is Kate, hand raised to knock again.

They stare at each other in silence. Her eyes are red-rimmed, shimmering, her cheeks flushed. They look into each other's eyes and there's something in hers that he can't quite place. Sadness, remorse, fear, and….

Love, he suddenly understands.

Days of spending with a Kate who so openly loved him, so openly shared it with him – and now, that love was mirrored in the woman's eyes standing in front of him. Looking at him. Not some other guy, or other him who she's been married to for years. But only _him_.

He's captivated. Too stunned to move. Her eyes shift to the umbrella he still has clutched in his hand, and the spell breaks.

"I… uh…," he stutters, trying to explain. He lowers his makeshift weapon, but before he can get another word out, Kate surges forward and seals her mouth to his. The umbrella falls to the ground with a loud clatter, but he hardly hears it.

Because this is familiar, and yet so new.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, again and again, before pressing her lips to his once more.

He doesn't want this moment to end, and yet he needs to know how they got here. He pushes her away, gently and still holding on to her, and their lips break apart.

"What happened?"

"The guy who tried to kill me got away, and I didn't care," she murmurs. "I nearly died again, and I didn't care." He sucks in a breath. "All I could think about was you," she confesses. "I just want you."

And with that, they're kissing again, only this time, he doesn't know who initiated, doesn't care. His heart threatens to burst out his chest from pure happiness, because this is _his_ Kate, and they're kissing, and they're together.

Whatever seemed impossible days before is a reality now. It's real, and wonderful, it makes his skin tingle, and his heartbeat increase.

He forgets all about the notes, all about their fight, all about her nearly dying – because she is right there, and everything else doesn't matter in this moment. They can deal with it all tomorrow, at some other time, whenever they're not exploring each other's bodies right in the entrance.

Rick pulls her closer, into the loft, and shuts the door, pressing her against it.

He temporarily forgets everything else. Kate is here, alive, and the love she always so carefully concealed is now glowing in the amber of her eyes.

Maybe it'll take them weeks, months, or years to figure out the riddle. But right now, all that matters is that he's there for her, and she's there for him.

Yes, they can deal with everything later. With no more secrets standing between them. No shields raised. No more walls. They can do this.

Together, like they were meant to.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank y'all so much for reading, for the reviews, the favorites, and follows. Just one more chapter to come. Reviews/other feedback is always welcome and greatly appreciated :)


	9. Chapter 9

_What he wouldn't give to be back in his real life, where he can step into her embrace and have everything be okay. Where he can kiss his daughters, both of them, on the head and tell them he is proud to be their dad. Where he can play with his boys. Where they're a family._

 _As soon as he makes it through the door, he makes it to the couch, unable to make it any further. He closes his eyes. "Please let everything be okay," he whispers, not sure if he is referring to Kate in this universe, or to his own situation._

 _Maybe a bit of both._

* * *

His pillow is warm, familiar… and moving? Rick peels his eyes open and blinks.

First rays of sunlight are peaking through the window and illuminate the room. He looks around without moving too much; sees the shells they hung years ago, some painting their kids did for them, a family portrait.

I'm back, he thinks with glee. Even more so when he realizes his moving pillow is Kate.

"I'm back," he repeats out loud, squeezing her tighter to him. The motion makes her stir, and she whines.

"Rick," Kate complains without opening her eyes. "Go back to sleep." She shifts slightly, and he thinks she may have fallen asleep again when she stays silent afterwards.

He chuckles. It's usually her who is the morning person – or, given their professions, the one who has no choice but to be. She's usually the one who's out of bed long before he begins to wake. Not today, apparently. But he's so grateful too be back, so happy to have her back in his arms, he really doesn't want to close his eyes right now, could spend the rest of the morning just watching her.

He really doesn't want to open them and find he's on the once familiar couch again, the one they threw out ages ago.

A glance at the clock tells him it's barely 6:30 a.m. Perfect time for breakfast, he decides. Carefully, he detangles their bodies, trying to leave her in peace for now. He can wake her up again when he presents her with breakfast in bed.

Castle swings his legs over the edge of the bed and heads to the kitchen. Or at least he plans to. But coming back also has its downsides, he notices, as his stiff body refuses to move exactly the way he wants it to.

Aging twenty years overnight was a factor he hasn't considered. Neither did he remember the accident and the bruises still painting his skin shades of blue, purple, and green. He was upset about not being in his universe, about being ripped away from his life, but he wouldn't have been too upset about missing the road to recovery.

With a soft moan, he limps through the loft, slower than usual. Definitely slower than the young version of him that ran from the precinct all the way to his loft.

He doesn't want his life from back then, god no. His body, however, is a different story.

The coffee machine hums to life. He finds some fruit and cuts it up, arranging it so that it forms that adorable smiling face that always makes her grin. If she wants pancakes, he'll come back to make them. But for now, he places the plate and their coffees on a tray and carefully carries it back to the bedroom.

The smell of coffee, the promise of caffeine, is what wakes her before he even enters.

She watches as he balances the tray and places it on the bedside table. He straightens up, eyes meeting hers.

"You're up," he remarks.

"And you shouldn't be," she scolds, but it doesn't sound threatening, her voice still too husky from sleep.

"Why wouldn't I be," he returns cheerily.

"Rest," she reminds him.

"Maybe I was too excited for rest."

Kate pats the empty spot next to her. "Come on. Get back into bed."

He grins cheekily. "If you insist."

She sits up, leans her torso against the headrest. "You seem happy this morning."

"I _am_ happy," he confirms while he crawls back into bed, closer to her than necessary on the spacious mattress. He sneaks a quick kiss from her, before he reaches to the side and hands her the coffee mug.

She hums in content, inhaling the scent. "So," she starts, seemingly innocent. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugs, and at least that doesn't hurt as much as he remembers from the few minutes he was awake at the hospital. Still not pleasant or easy. "Been better. Also been worse."

Kate huffs. "How is your head?" she inquires, still looking down at her mug. Her casual tone sounds too cheery, the pitch too high, too fake and unlike her actual voice. He can tell she must be getting at something, but unfortunately, he has no idea what that could be.

"Fine, I think," he replies, tentatively stroking his fingers over his forehead, his temples, through his hair. It all seems fine. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Her response is nothing but a few muttered sounds.

"Kate," he says and waits for her to look at him. "I might be awake, but I'm too tired for this. And after what I went through, I'm _definitely_ too tired for this."

She looks puzzled. "What you went through? Your accident, you mean?" she questions carefully, and there it is again, all signs that imply that she is hinting at something completely different.

Rick opens his mouth to explain, and then it occurs that he has no believable explanation. Not one that Kate would accept. He just shakes his head.

"Then what?" she pushes.

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me," Kate challenges.

He chuckles. "I'm gonna sound crazy."

"Oh, so just like you normally do?" She sticks her tongue out, a move he's sure she copied from their kids.

"Very mature," but when she just looks at him, waiting for his explanation, he gives in. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." And then he launches into telling the tale they both know so well. Only it's different this time. Because it's the past, and it's not quite like theirs. Because he talks about people who are like them, but who aren't quite the same.

He's surprised when she doesn't interrupt, doesn't laugh at the ridiculousness of alternate universes, doesn't suggest that pain meds made him hallucinate. Only when Rick reconstructs how he left her, how he was unable to save her from herself once more, does she speak up, talking, comforting, reassuring him until the renewed guilt begins to vanish.

When he is finished, she surges forward, locking their lips. Not the reaction he expected at all. "You're back," Kate whispers when they break apart.

Rick quirks an eyebrow. "That's it?" he questions. "No sarcastic comment?"

She chews on her lip, contemplates what to say. "You've been… different." His brow furrows. "These past few days. And – you said we'd had a fight. A fight exactly like the one you just described."

He's trying to wrap his mind around it. But maybe his suspicions are right, maybe someone else took his place. A Richard Castle from years ago. Seeking the answers he already found.

"You're saying I had memory lapses?" he tries to prompt, knowing it isn't the truth and yet aware that Kate would never openly admit to even the possibility of an alternate universe.

"I'm not sure," she murmurs, and he's shocked.

"Kate," his tone exaggerated while he dramatically clutches his heart. "Are you willing to concede to the possibility of supernatural workings?" She rolls her eyes. There it is.

"Just saying, you were acting strange," she defends herself. "And crazy you from yesterday and crazy you from today seem to have their stories straight."

"So, _maybe_ the alternate universe story isn't so crazy after all?" Rick teases and she frowns.

"Whatever it was," she finally replies with a gentle smile, "I'm so glad you're okay now."

He kisses her cheek again, and thinks about how lucky he is. How fortunate they are to have what they have. How much it sucked to be away from it for even just a few days, to be reminded of the pain of the past.

He hopes they're okay, that to whatever universe he traveled to, Kate is okay. That they'll find their way to each other.

"I hope they make it," he says quietly.

"Me too," she agrees, voice so low it's barely audible, and he's not sure she even meant to say it out loud.

* * *

It was absolute hell.

It was heaven and hell, all at the same time, and he couldn't have imagined that heaven would be so painful or that he'd feel so light walking through hell.

But even the worst experiences, the most painful, become bearable when he's with her.

The voice in his head screamed at him, practically ordered him to keep her away from her mother's case from now on. She was the one who said she'd step away, to let the case rest, to get closure later or come to accept that she'd never have it.

All he needed to do was to remain quiet, keep his mouth shut, keep the secret locked away in his desk.

But more secrets were only going to hurt them, damage them again, shatter their fragile relationship into so many pieces he was sure wouldn't be mended ever again. He couldn't sit on clues – perhaps even keys – without letting her know.

When they woke the next morning, side by side, everything felt peaceful, _right_ , and he hated to pull her out of her relaxed state, much like he'd done with the other Kate. But there was no way around it.

"About your mom's case…"

She didn't let him finish the sentence. "I told you, I'm done," she promised and looked him straight in the eye, showing him she was serious.

"You can't be," he protested and watched her tense up almost immediately.

"No, Castle, I meant it. I won't let this get between me and my happiness again."

He almost teared up, because this was everything he longed for her to say ever since he saw how far down she buried herself in that rabbit hole. But he couldn't let her stick with that decision until she heard him out.

"I found some clues...," he started explaining, but she interrupted again.

"Castle," she almost snapped. "Isn't this what you wanted? This isn't good for me."

It wasn't, it definitely wasn't. But she deserved closure, and if he could help her find it, he had to tell her what he discovered.

Maybe without mentioning the alternate universe.

She might have said that she wanted him, but she could change her mind once he presented himself as a complete lunatic. That was a story for another time.

"Please, hear me out," he insisted, and to his surprise, she stopped her protest. "Someone dropped some notes off. They're just scribbles, but I believe they might lead to your mother's killer."

Her brow furrowed. "Who dropped them off?"

"Didn't see who. They just appeared." It was technically true.

"You know those notes - if they contain any hints at all - could have been left by someone who wants to lead us to a dead end. Or to a nice secluded place where they can get rid of me once and for all," she warned, but he could see curiosity and determination flare up in her eyes before she had a chance to hide it.

She didn't refuse when he offered to show them to her.

It wasn't the gentle, comfortable beginning of a relationship that both of them had envisioned. It was tense and exhausting.

But they worked as a team, and whenever the crease in her forehead became too deep, he managed to make a comment that made it fade. He replaced her frown with a smile. He finally got to experience a Kate that didn't hide away when she was worried or scared, but one that shared her secrets with him, let him wrap his arms around her and pull him close.

Nights spent crying, screaming… He witnessed her suffering first hand, unabridged this time. But he was there for her. Always there to hold her tight, to dry her tears, to soothe her after a nightmare.

Castle couldn't wait for the day this was all over, when they finally caught the bastard responsible for Kate's pain.

Being with her was heaven. But seeing her suffer, dark circles of exhaustion under her eyes, red-rimmed from crying once again, being scared every day that another bullet was going to find its way to her heart again... it was hell.

They started the process of deciphering the notes, of placing them in the context they had and beginning to make sense of their meaning. He thanked the other Castle in his head. Without the clues, their investigations might have taken months, years even.

Just two weeks later and they'd found most of the people involved and connected to the case, and finally, _finally_ uncovered who wanted to hide his past so badly he went over bodies.

But they couldn't prove it.

Not even the file they retrieved was enough evidence. Just enough to keep Kate alive. Bracken was right in front of their noses, but slightly out of reach. So close, yet not close enough.

It was maddening, drove him insane.

And it made him fall even more in love with Kate.

Her strength throughout all of this was beyong amazing. She never relented, never backed down. And while he growled and complained about not just being able to arrest Bracken, she smiled. "Don't worry, we'll get him," she assured him with certainty in her voice.

It was the elephants were the most difficult to figure out. Other Castle hadn't been kind enough to leave a more specific explanation beside the word. Instead, he underlined it three times, circled it, so much of his attention on this one single piece of information. The seemingly most important clue, according to a man much wiser than them, and he had failed to mention what elephants he was referring to.

The puzzle piece that didn't fit.

Three months later, Castle was ready to leave the precinct after a case, while she stayed behind doing paperwork. He rose from his chair and walked around the desk, legs stiff from the hours he'd spent seated that day.

It was what threw him off balance, sent him knocking against her desk on his way out. He could see the little group of animal figurines tumbling in slow motion, Kate's grab too slow to stop the fall.

They smashed on the ground.

He dropped to his knees immediately, never ending apologies leaving his lips, assessed the damage and looked for larger pieces of the porcelain that he could glue back together. He found a tape instead.

Suddenly, it all fell into place.

Everything after happened too fast for him to comprehend. What he did understand was that Kate – for the first time in years – was able to breathe freely. To return home knowing why her mother was murdered, and that the person responsible was going to be brought to justice. The weight onher shoulder wasn't gone, but she let some of it go.

They left hell behind.

"Who gave you those notes, Rick?" Kate whispered to him one night right before he drifted to sleep.

"Told you I never saw," he mumbled and she huffed.

"But I know you have at least some idea as to who it was," she remarked. "I don't think I could have done it without those notes."

"Definitely would have," he slurred. "You're the best detective there is."

Kate chuckled. "Well, whoever it was... I know I couldn't have done it without you."

He grinned, thinking of the other Castle writing down details of the case and leaving them in his office for them to find. "Probably true," he chuckled.

"One day you'll tell me," she said.

He does two years later.

He tells her everything he saw in the other world, everything he knows about their future in another universe.

Kate laughs and rolls her eyes at him, just like he thought. But the smile when he mentions their children is void of ridicule or sarcasm. The tales of them - whether they come from his imagination or not - serve as promise of their shared future.

Castle watches it bloom. Every moment of pain, of struggle, every fight has been worth it. They made it.

This is their story, and he is here for it.

 _A/N: Wow, what a wild ride. THANK YOU to everyone who has read, favorited, commented, or reviewed this story. It means more than I can say. Thanks as well for everybody's patience, while I've been struggling (and failing) to squeeze writing into my schedule. I hope you enjoyed this story, despite the occasional mess._


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